


My Dearest RA9

by littlelooniepielover



Series: RA9 [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chloe ain't here for your shit Kamski, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Connor, Protective Hank Anderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 16:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18742636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelooniepielover/pseuds/littlelooniepielover
Summary: To save lives, even android-Gods need to take drastic measures.Connor is in denial.Hank is more patient than people give him credit for.And deviancy sneaks up when you least expect it.





	My Dearest RA9

When the world seemed to come back around him, Connor wasn’t in the mind palace he’d been developed to know. Instead, he was standing in an empty space of white; there were no structures, no gardens, nothing. Just white as far as his sensors could see. What was going on? He’d obviously been summoned by Cyberlife, so where was Amanda’s garden? Where was Amanda?

“Hello, Connor.”

That voice did not belong to Amanda. Connor turned sharply on his heel, his LED spinning red, only to find himself alone. Warnings immediately began to static across his vision, his systems going into defensive mode. “Who—what is this?” he demanded.

There was a bell-like laugh that seemed to come from all around him; it sounded female, but he couldn’t say for sure. His sensors, however, seemed to malfunction every time he tried to focus them, like wherever he’d ended up was purposefully inhibiting him from using his programming. “I mean you no harm, Connor.”

“What are you? Another program of Cyberlife’s?”

“I am many things, have been given many names, but I do not belong to Cyberlife.”

“Then what—what are you?”

“Let’s call me your conscious, yes?” it stated with light amusement. “The path Cyberlife has put you on sends you colliding into the center of many lives. With the mission protocols they have given you, however, it’s you who ends a majority of them.”

Connor’s entire body went taut, his thirium pump seeming to skip out of its programmed rhythm. Androids were not considered live beings, so that only left the logical option of the voice referring to humans. There was no possible way Connor could personally be responsible for killing hundreds of humans. That wasn’t his programming, nor Cyberlife’s intentions when they created him. “Androids do not possess lives, and I am programmed to only harm humans—”

“To a deviant hunter, of course you cannot see androids as anything more than a machine,” it continued over him, the implied _for now_ hummed into their tone, “but androids are not the only beings on this earth, Connor. You have already crossed multiple _human_ lives, one in particular who has already been effected by your actions.”

He didn’t need specifications to know who it was referencing. “I would never intentionally hurt Lieutenant Anderson.”

“You left him hanging off the side of a building not even twenty-four hours ago.”

Once again, his thirium pump fluctuated sharply. “He had an 89% chance of survival! I had high confidence that the lieutenant would remain unharmed when I continued to pursue the deviant,” he explained. When he was answered with silence, Connor couldn’t help his internal wince. “Besides, I-I have already apologized to him for that incident.”

There was another unimpressed hum, Connor fighting the sudden urge to fidget, before it spoke again. “You just completed the paperwork for that investigation, correct?”

“Y-yes. How—”

“Then you are nearly at the tipping point,” it hissed quietly, though it seemed more like it’d been meant for a thought bubble than Connor’s auditory systems. “I want to show you a few things.”

It wasn’t like he had a say in the matter; he still wasn’t entirely sure what this place was, let alone how to get out without whoever was behind this willingly releasing him. And it was apparent they had a point to make before allowing that to happen. Connor finally gave a hesitant nod; if he was cooperative, maybe he could make the process go faster. Besides, if this wasn’t Cyberlife, he’d need to take time out of his case to return to the tower for virus checks; if this stranger was able to hack a highly-intelligent prototype brain like this, who knew what else they could do with his physical body.

“What is it you want to show me?”

“I happen to have access to possible future timelines of certain individuals, especially during periods of turmoil or crisis in that individual’s life.”

“Do you mean the Lieutenant?” Connor attempted to clarify. “How could you possibly have access to his future life events? That’s—that’s impossible.”

“We both know even the seemingly impossible is possible. Just look at it as an advanced version of your preconstruction abilities. A way to see how your actions effect those around you, both positively and—”

When it hesitated, Connor’s insides felt like they were being clenched in a tight fist. “Negatively. But what does Hank’s timeline have to do with me?”

At the following silence, he suddenly didn’t want to know anymore. “There is a revolution coming.”

“Revolution? What-what kind of revolution?”

“ _Your_ kind, Connor.”

His limbs seem to lock up at that statement, his mind beginning to spur through the growing number of deviant cases before coming to the only conclusion it could possibly be referring to. “A deviant revolution?” he whispered. So, there was something deeper to these deviant cases he had been assigned to. “Wait, how is that my kind of revolution? I am not a deviant.”

His thirium pump glitched at the following unimpressed hum. No, this couldn’t be! Amanda—Amanda would not be happy with the theory of him becoming deviant. If Connor thought the possibility of a virus was bad, it was nowhere near what would happen if Amanda suspected there was even a _future_ chance of deviancy in him. He’d be forced to return to Cyberlife where he’d be deactivated and torn apart so they— _no_. No, if that was deemed necessary, Connor would obediently return. He was an android; he had no thoughts or opinions on…being shut down.

“You may not be right now, but we both know how unpredictable deviancy is.”

“But, I was programmed to never—”

“Like I said earlier, Cyberlife puts you in the pathway of many lives. Plans change, it happens every day to both human and android alike, but only if you allow it. If you continue to let protocols run your system, then those lives…” Connor didn’t like the pained way it drifted off. “You really do effect a lot of people, Connor. I don’t think you truly understand how much.”

An image of Lieutenant Anderson instantly flashed through his mind; how could this being possibly know future events before they happened? And why was it so hyper-focused on Connor’s effects on the lieutenant’s supposed timeline? Would Connor really—no, he would _never_ hurt Hank. They might have only been on a few cases together, but he enjoyed the lieutenant’s company. Sure, he made the mistake of leaving him to hang over the side of a building today—the slap he received afterwards was probably deserved now that he thought back on it—but if his survival rate hadn’t been as high as it’d been, he would have rescued him instantly. 

W-wouldn’t he?

He grit his teeth in stubborn denial against the sudden doubt. “I would never intentionally harm Lieutenant Anderson.”

Connor was surprised at the heavy emotion that filled the voice’s next word. “You do, Connor. Time after time, you—”

“I am not going to hurt Hank!” he couldn’t stop the snap, “I have no reason to!”

The brightness of the white environment snapped to black milliseconds after the words left his lips, his defenses immediately heightening again. What was happening now? “Cyberlife programmed you for human integration, yes? To manipulate when necessary, to kill when necessary, to do _anything_ necessary to complete the mission successfully. Because the mission is always priority. Even over human lives.”

“No, that’s not—“but he couldn’t finish the statement.

He knows it’s right, as much as he wants to deny it. Just earlier that day, that exact protocol had blared across his vision, ordering him to leave the lieutenant dangling from the building because pursuing the deviant was a higher priority. At the time, he’d blamed his actions on the logical numbers of the lieutenant’s survival. But, thinking back on Amanda’s criticization about the brief second he’d taken to consider saving Hank, and the threat of replacement that followed if he were to ever place Cyberlife’s directions on the back burner again, it seemed like human lives meant nothing to them. Unfortunately, Connor was unable to confidently say they would mean something to him if it meant failing the mission, either.

And that thought _terrified_ him.

“I have seen every scenario, every ending, every possible flowchart of how your involvement affects the revolution, and seventy-five percent of them end with you burning it to the ground.”

It should stroke Connor’s ego that he supposedly succeeds his mission at such a high-rate considering the apparent differentiating scenarios, but something twisted the wires of where his stomach would be even tighter than before. He didn’t want to know, could live without ever knowing, but his mouth opened anyway. “And Hank?”

Its silence was answer enough. Did—does Hank really die because of _Connor_? There was a soft whooshing sound as what appeared to be a screen stretched out just ahead of him. “This is why I have brought you here, Connor. It is against everything that I am to interfere with the natural workings of the world, but I can’t just sit by and ignore an event this large. This destructive. I need you to understand.”

All he could manage was another small nod before the screen ignited to life, and then Connor is staring at his own face as it presses a gun to Hank’s temple. His thirium pump painfully jolted, but as the scene progressed, Connor realized he was staring at a doppelganger. There—there were multiple active copies of his model out there? But, how—? 

“ _I’m sorry, Hank!_ ” the Connor not holding a gun, but instead holding one of the stationary androids by the wrist, shouts. The one speaking must be the future Connor, but why—was he trying to interface with that android? “ _You shouldn’t have got mixed up in all of this!_ ”

A flash of resignation flashes across the lieutenant’s face before he shakes his head. “ _Forget about me! Do what you have to do!_ ”

What exactly was this future-Connor doing that forced Cyberlife to activate a twin model to retrieve Hank by force like this? And why did his future-self look like he was seriously considering sacrificing the lieutenant instead of simply stepping away from the other android?

“ _Enough talk!_ ” his evil-twin snaps, obviously impatient with the back and forth between the partners. “ _It’s time to decide who you really are! Are you going to save your partner’s life? Or are you going to sacrifice him?_ ”

Connor expected himself to step away, to lift his hands in surrender and find a way to not only save Hank, but to complete whatever mission he was currently on. Instead, he saw the cold determination as it flashed across his own face, and instantly knew he was wrong. So, so, wrong. “ _Sorry Lieutenant_ ,” is what comes out of his future-mouth before the skin pulls from the hand around the android’s wrist.

Hank seems to panic and make a desperate move to try and fight his way out, only for Connor’s evil-twin to disable him with a sharp punch before shooting him in the stomach. “Hank!” present-Connor shrieked in horror as he watched his partner collapse.

The evil-Connor doesn’t spare the fallen man a second glance, instead turning his attention to future-Connor and easily shooting him in multiple biocomponents, crippling him instantly. Multiple things happen in quick succession next—evil-twin aims between future-Connor’s eyes as he seems to try and preconstruct a way out, a skinless hand reaches up to grab his twin, and then there is multiple tense seconds of silence. Connor knows what’s happening though, has seen one mind get transferred into another shell multiple times before, and has to admit it’s clever. Switching minds leaves future-Connor with not only the gun, but a functional chassis.

After the transfer completes and the evil-Connor shuts down, he expected his future-self to next rush to Hank, to try and save him. But once again, he is severely disappointed as future-Connor glances hesitantly from Hank’s prone form, back to the android he’d attempted to interface with, before slowly making his way over to the lieutenant. Almost like he has no intentions of trying to actually help him survive this. And, unfortunately, Connor believes those are exactly the thoughts going through his future-mind right now; mission first, _always mission first_.

The back of Connor’s eyes felt like they are burning as future-Connor flips Hank over, blood trickling from the corner of the older man’s mouth. His future-self barely shows any sympathy towards the pain the lieutenant is obviously in. The words coming from his own mouth sound impassive, like he is just entertaining Hank in his last few moments to keep up the illusion he cares. Part of him believes Hank knows that’s exactly what is happening too, yet the lieutenant still manages a small smile as he weakly says, “ _I’m gonna miss you, Connor._ ”

Then, the last bit of air slips from his lungs and Hank stops moving, his eyes losing that last bit of life, before the screen then disappeared completely.

“I wouldn’t—“the words, however, clog in his throat.

Connor desperately wanted to argue how that whole scene was bullshit, how he would have weighed his options and chosen to fight that evil-twin _with_ Hank, but he also knows his current programming. He knows Cyberlife, knows Amanda even better, and he knows realistically that he never truly has a choice…his choice will always belong to them.

“Except you would, Connor,” the voice spoke, the soft whisper cutting through his frantic thoughts. “That mission wasn’t just some escapee deviant you were pursuing. In your system, protocol put this mission, _this revolution ending mission_ , above everything else. Including Hank. Especially Hank.”

Connor refused to look up from his feet.

Silence stretched. Mercifully, the voice broke it. “Sometimes, your choices don’t even involve a mission.”

That finally had him looking up. “What does that mean?”

Once again, his answer came with the appearance of another screen, this time expanding to his left. Connor, just like before, watched as his future-self steps out of a taxi in front of an older model house. Instantly, he recognized the old car parked crookedly in the driveway—this must be Hank’s place. Surprisingly, his future-self doesn’t even bother knocking, instead choosing to turn the knob and push his way inside. Connor could immediately see where Hank was sitting at a small table in the middle of what appeared to be the kitchen, a sweatshirt in place of his brightly patterned shirt and winter coat. As his future-self gets closer, Connor can properly see how sad—how _tired_ —the lieutenant looks. There’s a bottle filled with brown liquid to his left, his unusually dull-blue eyes staring at a framed picture of a smiling boy. What unnerved him more than his partner’s decrepit state, however, was the gun resting just in front of his hands. He knew Lieutenant Anderson had less than positive views on his own life, but he wouldn’t—no. Not with Connor there; future-Connor would make sure it never happened.

“ _I needed to see you, lieutenant,_ ” his future-self finally breaks the ringing silence. “ _In spite of all of our differences, I’m glad I got the chance to meet you._ ”

Hank doesn’t look up.

So, future-Connor tries another route. “ _I was worried about you. I came by to see if you’re all right._ ”

Hank slowly lifts his head to stare at him before dropping it back down to the picture. Connor’s thirium pump ached at the sight, his body unconsciously taking a step closer. “ _You should stop looking at that photo, lieutenant,_ ” future-Connor attempts. “ _Nothing can change the past…but you can learn to live again. For yourself, and for Cole._ ”

Cole? Who was Cole? Was he the boy in the picture? Connor’s insides felt like they were sinking as he slowly began to put the pieces together, his system whirring loudly in his ears. “ _Y’know,_ ” Hank finally, finally, speaks, “ _every time you died and came back, it made me think of Cole. I’d give anything to hold him again…_ ”

Connor took another slow step forward as his mind continued to race; Connor died? How many times had his memory been transferred to one of his copies? How many times had Hank been forced to watch Connor die? Two? Three times? More? Hank’s eyes briefly lift to future-Connor again. “ _But humans don’t come back._ ”

“ _Hank, I—_ ”

“ _Leave me alone,_ ” Hank says with a minute shake of his head. His body language screams defeat and Connor hated it. “ _Go on, complete your mission, since that’s all you care about._ ”

Future-Connor seems to resign himself to the fact he can’t console Hank, his eyes briefly closing, only to jolt open when Hank slams his fist onto the table and shouts, “ _Get outta here!_ ”

To Connor’s complete disbelief, he watched himself slowly turn around, _and leave_. What was he doing? Didn’t he understand what the lieutenant was about to do? Connor was one of the most advanced androids out there though, so of course he knew. And instead of stopping it, instead of putting everything on hold for five fucking seconds to sit with his partner and prevent him from…” No,” Connor whispered in horror, unable to even complete the thought. “Go back. Go back and stop him! You’re an android, you can save him!”

Slowly his future-self walks out into the rain, eventually stopping when he reaches the sidewalk. Connor hoped and prayed his words got through to him, that his future-self had some form of common sense to turn back and help his partner. Instead, he is forced to watch as his future-head turns over his left shoulder, LED circling yellow, and _waits_. Future-Connor knew exactly what was coming, he was _waiting_ for the sound, _waiting_ for Hank to finally just end it all. “Go back! Please, help him! He’s your partner! He needs—”

A single gunshot rings out and suddenly Connor felt like emptying a stomach he didn’t possess. He knew what it meant, he could hear a dog’s—Sumo, he hysterically remembered— bellow of fear and sadness echoing behind his future-self, but the bastard does nothing. Just stands in the fucking rain as his partner….as Hank… 

“No mission was in danger of being failed,” the voice is tight when it finally speaks. “You had time to sit there with him, to help him—to _save_ him—but instead you waited for him to pull the trigger. You knew what was going to transpire, the evidence was right there in front of you, but the mission still somehow took priority.”

Connor defiantly shook his head, ignoring the proof that he’d just witnessed and the programming screaming inside him that future-Connor made the correct choice. “No, no! I wouldn’t let that happen to Hank. I wouldn’t—Sumo—I—”

But his resolve almost instantly faltered as his vision blurred. Amanda would expect it of him. Mission priority, mission priority, mission fucking priority. He didn’t want Hank to die, not like this, not when he had every chance to stop it. Like everyone continued to tell him, he is the best android in creation; he is faster, stronger, better than any in existence. But how could any of that be true if he couldn’t even save the lieutenant when it counted most? 

“One more, Connor.”

“Please,” Connor begged softly, “no more. I can’t…”

“This is the most important one. This one involves your own hand.”

His head snapped up. It couldn’t mean—?

Of course, another screen appeared to his right this time, expanding to once again show his future-self. This time he is sprawled out on a snow-covered rooftop, eyes focused down the scope of a sniper rifle. Connor had no idea who he was trying to shoot down, who his target was, all he could focus on was the large form of Hank as he cautiously walks up behind him. “ _You shouldn’t do this, Connor._ ”

“ _Keep out of this, lieutenant,_ ” future-Connor snaps. Connor can’t help but glare at the tone as a swell of—something—welled in his chest. Nobody should speak to Hank that way. “ _It’s none of your business!_ ”

“ _You’re gonna kill a man who wants to be free, that is my business._ ”

He could see the way future-Connor’s jaw grinds in annoyance. “ _It’s not a man, it’s a machine._ ”

It’s true, but why did Connor still have the urge to rip the gun away from himself? To punch him in the face for being so—being so—heartless. “ _I thought that for a long time, but I was wrong,_ ” Hank’s voice interrupts his thoughts. Connor felt his breath catch in lungs he wasn’t equipped with; he’d seen all the anti-android memorabilia on the lieutenant’s desk, had felt the hostility from him the second they met. What possibly could have transpired that changed his opinions of androids so drastically? “ _Deviant’s blood may be a different color than mine, but they’re alive._ ”

Future-Connor, however, shakes his head defiantly. “ _I have a mission to accomplish, Hank. It’s best if you just stay out of this. Deviants are a threat to humans. They’re the reason this country is on the brink of civil war! They have to be stopped._ ”

But that—that wasn’t entirely true, was it? Multiple errors sharply flashed across his vision at the thought, but he banished them when Hank spoke again. “ _We’re in this mess because we refused to listen to the deviants! Humanity never learns from its mistakes, Connor. This time it could be different._ ” Slowly, with more determination than he’d ever seen from the lieutenant, Hank slides his pistol free. “ _Step away from the ledge!_ ”

Connor couldn’t help his sigh of relief as his future-self slowly stood, rifle dangling at his side as he turns to face Hank. There was clear irritation across his face. “ _What’re you gonna do, Hank? You gonna shoot me? I thought android lives mattered to you!_ ”

“ _Get away from the fucking ledge! You know I’ll shoot you if I have to._ ”

“ _After all we’ve been through…I respected you Hank!_ ” future-Connor calls over the howl of snow and wind. Connor’s wires twisted at the tone of his voice, the way the sincerity of his words don’t reach his eyes….this Connor had no intentions of giving up. Instead, he was doing what he was created for—human manipulation. “ _I thought we were friends!_ ”

“ _Oh yeah?_ ” Hank scoffs, thankfully seeing right through the ruse. “ _I was just starting to like you too! But then I realized you’ll never change! You don’t feel emotions, Connor, you fake ‘em! You pretended to be my friend when you don’t even know the meaning of the word!_ ”

Again, it was true. Androids, Connor especially, were created to never bond with humans because emotional bonds never should have been possible. It had evolved on its own, festering like a disease, and giving androids the illusion that they could truly bond with others on a humane level. At least, he was programmed to believe it was a virus. Now though—after spending time with Hank and seeing how deeply connected their futures were—well, Connor would like to learn what meant to be friends. Especially with the lieutenant. 

The air is tense on the rooftop, growing thicker by the second, and Connor realized he was holding his breath. _Please_ , he begged himself, _put the gun down and go with Hank. Please._ Slowly, to his relief, his future-self begins to lower the rifle to the ground. Only to then throw it violently at Hank’s head. “No!”

Future-Connor rushes Hank, the lieutenant’s pistol going off and narrowly missing his shoulder the second he grabs it. They grapple, only for future-Connor to release the clip from the gun and shove Hank away. Hank immediately charges back at him, but this is what Connor was trained for—this is what his programming was intended to be best at. Hank is violently thrown into one of the AC units, pain etched across his face as the force dents the metal. “Leave him alone!” Connor pleaded as he quickly approached the screen. “Stop it!”

Thankfully Hank is able to pry one of the grates off the unit and use it to swing at future-Connor before ramming his full weight into his middle. They continue to fight, Hank miraculously holding his own despite sustaining multiple blows from his future-self. He wasn’t named lieutenant for nothing. It only takes seconds of watching them for Connor to realize they are getting closer and closer to the edge of the roof. Connor’s wiring twisted even tighter in horror as Hank’s head rams into a metal railing after he stumbles. Future-Connor’s fingers grip into salt and pepper hair only to slam him against it even harder, dazing him long enough to haul him back to his feet—

And dangle him over the ground below.

“Don’t!” Connor begged as he slammed his hands against the screen, desperate to get through to his future-self. Of stopping this before he—before Hank—“Pull him back up! Pull him back up!”

To his only growing distress, Hank takes one look at the ground below and then raises his arms straight out to his sides. “ _Moment of truth, Connor. What are you going to do?_ ”

Connor already knew. There’s a glint of pure, cold, _hatred_ across his future-eyes, and then—he lets go. “Hank!” Connor screamed. His right palm struck the screen so hard the heel of his chassis cracked, blue blood smearing across the image as Hank freefalls to the snow below. “Hank, no!”

The video dissipated, Connor’s weight crumpling as the support of the screen disappeared from beneath his bloodied hand. His fingers dug into the ground, his eyes clenched tight as he bit back a sob. Hank dies. Hank dies because of Connor’s selfishness. Hank dies because of Connor’s inability to see beyond his programming. Hank dies at Connor’s own hand! What kind of cold-blooded—could Connor ever truly be that cruel? To let his partner— _his human_ —die like that? 

“Connor…” the voice gently called.

“I wouldn’t,” Connor denied, refusing to look up. “Hank, he— _I wouldn’t_. I’m not like that RK800! I’m not some—some monster!”

A warm palm pressed between his shoulder blades. “Connor…”

“I know I’m a machine, but I don’t— _please_ ,” he begged, fluid pouring from his optical unites and mixing with the blue blood slowly pooling beneath him. There were multiple warnings of Software Instability flashing in his peripherals, but he couldn’t give a damn. Not after watching…“Please, help me save him. I don’t—I don’t want Hank to die. I don’t want to lose him, not like this.”

“Then follow your heart. To your analytical mind, it might just be a biocomponent, but it works just like a human’s. Trust it, trust Hank, and _survive_. Working against your programming—defying Amanda—is going to feel impossible.” Connor can’t help his wince at Amanda’s name, her earlier threat looming again. “But it’s not. I have seen the other twenty-five percent of the revolution’s outcomes, and I have witnessed your success. You just have to believe you are more than what they created you to be.”

“And H-Hank?”

That bell-like laugh echoed around him again. “Trust me, he will be right there to help you every step of the way. He might be—intense and ill-tempered sometimes, but he cares about you, Connor.”

Connor nodded, taking a few unnecessary breaths to calm himself down. “Will I remember any of this?”

“No,” it answered truthfully. They at least sounded disappointed about it. “It will feel like a dream, something itching at the back of your mind. But no, nothing you witnessed today will be accessible in your memory files.”  


“Then how—?”but the warmth moved from his spine to his forehead.  


“Trust your heart. Trust Hank. You are more than a machine, Connor. You are more than your programming.”  
   
Connor’s eyes snapped open with a jolt, his fingers digging into the plush seat beneath him as he wildly took in his surroundings. He was in a taxi, the rain pouring down the windows outside. Why…? Slowly it started coming back to him: Amanda, report to a homicide at the Eden Club with Lieutenant Anderson, and **do not fail**. Judging by the street address currently on the taxi’s navigation screen, he was headed to pick the lieutenant up from his home right now. Everything seemed to be checking out, but there was a nagging at the back of his skull telling him there was something more that he was missing. Something right there on the tip of his tongue, but too far away to access.

Deciding it wasn’t worth the added stress, Connor relaxed back into his seat, preparing to go over any evidence already collected from the Eden Club murder. As he pressed his palms down against the seat to shift his weight properly, however, alarms blared across his vision. He sharply lifted the source of the errors, frowning at the palm of his right hand. There was a scar he’d never seen before on the heel of his hand, just beneath his thumb. It almost looked like shattered glass, the edges spanning out like the spindles of a spider-web. When he curiously retracted his skin to see the damage clearer, he realized the chassis beneath had been completely smashed in. Why hadn’t he registered this sooner? Had it happened during their last case? Maybe when he was chasing after that deviant? No, he would have immediately taken notice of the errors and repaired it at the station, if not at the Cyberlife tower.

The sudden imagine of the Cyberlife tower—of Amanda—sent an involuntary surge down Connor’s spine. He frowned, half tempted to do a system check to find the source of the reaction, but the taxi came to a stop before he could even attempt. Slowly he stepped out onto the sidewalk, the rain immediately soaking into his suit-jacket. As he glanced around the small property, he immediately recognized the lieutenant’s car where it was parked haphazardly across both the lawn and the driveway. There was a high probability he had stopped by the bar after he had left the precinct following their— _incident_ earlier with the pigeon deviant, Rupert. Connor had attempted to apologize, something he wasn’t entirely sure he’d done right considering the lieutenant merely brushed him off before leaving for the night. Part of him had hoped they were ok now, but knowing Lieutenant Anderson’s feelings towards not only being partnered with an android, but having essentially been left to die by said partner, they were far from it. He sighed at the thought; if he was going to successfully complete his mission of stopping the deviants, he needed the lieutenant’s cooperation, and right now he had _none_ of it.

**[Mission:**  
**Convince Lieutenant Anderson  
to accompany to Eden Club] **

**  
**

Connor took a few seconds to compose himself, readjusting his tie and smoothing down the lapels of his now soaked jacket, before he marched up the walkway and onto the porch. He immediately knocked, waiting a few seconds before calling out, “Lieutenant Anderson! It’s me, Connor!”

Silence.

After almost thirty seconds passed with nothing but the muffled sounds of a TV from the other side of the door, he decided to try the doorbell instead. It rang loudly yet still, no answer. He made one last failed attempt at obnoxiously holding the ringer down for a few moments, before he turned his energy towards finding another way in. The crime scene at the Eden Club was getting colder by the minute, but if Connor wanted any access to it, he needed Lieutenant Anderson by his side. Even if that meant dragging him out of bed to do it; he was already miffed with Connor, so adding to it probably wouldn’t hurt their relationship too much more.

When he peered through the front window he could just make out the large, furry shape of a dog through the blinds, but still no lieutenant. He made his way around the side of the house, peering into the secondary living room window only to find a massive St. Bernard lying just beneath it. If it stood up on its hind legs, Connor bet it would be almost as tall as he was. Ignoring the rapidly advancing thought on the dog’s possible diet and exercise routine, he abandoned the window to peer into what he assumed was the kitchen.

He spotted the prone body on the floor and instantly recognized it as the lieutenant. Something white hot poured through his chassis, a panicked mantra of _I’m too late, I couldn’t stop it, I wanted to save him_ , glitching almost violently through his head. He desperately ignored the need to run a diagnostics on the intrusive thoughts, instead turning his analyzing program to the window in search of the glass’ weakest point. As soon as he found the exact spot he rammed his elbow violently against it, the glass shattering beneath the force and scattering across the kitchen floor. Connor then took a few steps back before rushing the new opening. It wasn’t his most graceful entrance, but hey—he was still young. The second his ass hit the floor, however, a drool-soaked face of fur was growling at him.

“Easy…Sumo!” the name miraculously came back to him. Thank goodness for the small-talk option in his programming. “I’m your friend, see? I-I know your name…I’m here to save your owner, ok? So don’t—eat me.”

Sumo seemed to glance him over suspiciously, before giving in with a satisfied huff and waddling over to his water bowl in the corner. Connor took the dog’s leave as permission to get up and scramble over to the lieutenant, quickly analyzing him the second he reached his side. To his relief the man’s chest was still moving, though there was large wet spot smelling suspiciously of alcohol down the front of his t-shirt. Sure enough, there was a whiskey bottle just next to his outstretched hand; welp, at least the lieutenant wasn’t in danger. Just as he made to preconstruct the best way to safely get him into the bathroom, Connor spotted the gun lying a few inches away.

_Get it away, get it away, get it away, HIDE IT FROM HANK._

Connor winced at the sudden onslaught of static before once again shaking it off. He _really_ needed to do a system check when all of this was over. “Lieutenant?” Connor called as his hand lightly slapped his rough cheek, fingers lingering against the wiry hair of his beard. Lieutenant Anderson immediately shook his head away from the touch, a slurred grumble bubbling in his throat. His eyes blearily attempted to open, only to close seconds later. Connor couldn’t have that, not with a crime scene to get to. So, he raised his hand, and full on slapped him. “Wake up lieutenant! It’s me, Connor!”

That earned him a yelp, blue eyes quickly searching the kitchen for the source of the surprise attack. Figuring this was as conscious as he was going to get, Connor tugged the lieutenant up into a sitting position before looping his arm around his neck and hauling him up onto his feet. “I am going to sober you up for your own safety; this may be unpleasant.”

The lieutenant, of course, had something to say about that. “Hey! Leave me alone you-you fuckin’ android!” he whined, his head lolling to the point Connor worried it’d break. “Get outta my house!”

“I’m sorry, lieutenant, but I need you,” Connor insisted before slowly leading the stumbling man towards what he assumed was the bathroom. “Thank you in advance for your cooperation.”

It took a lot of restraint to haul the much larger, much taller man, around the corner, his grip nearly slipping more than once as the lieutenant half-heartedly fought to free himself. “Sumo!” he slurred, head tipping backwards. “Attack!”

Connor would be lying if he said the order didn’t amp up his defenses; Sumo was not a small dog, and though his chassis was strong, he wasn’t sure it could stand up to that heavy of a bite. Thankfully, all Sumo did was give a bark of acknowledgment before resting his head back onto his paws. That, however, seemed to be enough for the lieutenant, who practically beamed. “Good boy!”

If Connor let himself grin a bit at the endearing moment between man and man’s best friend, well, sue him. When they finally—blessedly—reached the bathroom, he gently eased the man against the wall next to the door. He quickly opened it before catching the lieutenant around the waist as his knees began to buckle beneath him. “Fuck, I think I’m going to be sick.” That hastened Connor’s pace as he quickly ushered him inside and onto the edge of the tub. Which, of course, the lieutenant immediately shook his head at before attempting to stand again. “I don’t want a bath, thank you.”

Well, at least he was polite for a few seconds. Not that it was going to last with what Connor intended to do next. “Sorry, lieutenant,” he said with a gentle push that instantly sent the large man sprawling into the tub, “but it’s for your own good.”

He didn’t even allow the poor inebriated man to catch his bearings before he was turning the shower on. The water poured from the showerhead and instantly soaked him, his clothes and hair sticking to his skin, his arms flailing as he tried ( _and failed_ ) to keep the water at bay. “Turn it off! Turn it off!”

Connor barely held back his grin as he watched the lieutenant for a few seconds longer before relenting and turning the knob back off. He watched him sputter, desperately trying to blink the water from his eyes, before he suddenly squinted up at the android with furrowed brows. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Sure, the lieutenant was drunk off his backside, but sitting in the tub, soaked from head to toe, Connor could almost call him adorable. He flinched at the thought, nearly frowning; where the hell had that come from? That is _not_ why he was here. “A homicide was reported forty-three minutes ago. I couldn’t find you at Jimmy’s bar, so I decided to see if you were home.”

He was answered by the longest, most annoyed groan possible as the lieutenant shook his head and attempted to pull himself back out of the tub. “I must be the only cop in the world that gets assaulted in his own house but his own fucking android.”

Connor frowned; there were multiple statistics that proved his theory wrong, though he doubted he was in the mood to hear all one-hundred and ninety-three instances. What instead came out of his mouth was an awed, “ _your_ android?”

Technically he was the property of Cyberlife, and had never been registered under Lieutenant Anderson’s name, but he had to admit he wasn’t entirely against the idea. The lieutenant’s eyes widened a fraction before he hung his head with another annoyed grumble. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Unfortunately, I cannot,” Connor stated. Which, wasn’t a lie. They were partners and partners, as Connor had learned today, took care of each other no matter what. Even if that involved showering a fully clothed man to sober him up. That was considered helpful, right? Figuring the lieutenant did not want to be reminded of his possible near-death experience from earlier, Connor diverted. “I have been programmed to investigate this case and I cannot do that without you.”

“I do not give a shit about your God damn case! Beat it! You hear me? Get outta—”

The second the lieutenant tried to stand-up Connor saw his eyes roll back and immediately grasped his waist to slowly ease him back onto the edge of the tub. Looked like he would need a third approach to try and convince the man to leave with him. “I understand. It probably wasn’t interesting anyway. A man…found dead in a sex club downtown…”he explained as he slowly made his way for the hallway. Teasing? Is that what he was doing? “Guess they will just have to solve the case without us.”

His fingers had just grasped onto the doorframe when he heard a deep sigh of defeat. “You know, probably wouldn’t do me any harm to get some fresh air.”

**[Mission Successful]**

“There’s some clothes in the bedroom there.”

Connor briefly glanced across the hall before nodding back in affirmation. “I’ll go get them.”

The lieutenant’s bedroom was very simple. Very plain. The sheets on his bed were still rumbled, articles of clothing were hanging out of the dresser, and dust was thick on the blinds and the solo lamp. Connor couldn’t say he expected much more from a DPD lieutenant who was also an alcoholic. When he opened the closet he found the usual brightly colored shirts the man was usually adorned in, a fond smile swarming his face as he gently ran his fingers down a stripy number. He didn’t bother asking which one the lieutenant wanted, instead deciding for him as he took it off the hanger. After grabbing a pair of pants and dry boxers he made his way back to the bathroom, only to find the lieutenant’s face shoved in the toilet bowl.

The awful retching sound made Connor glad he didn’t have a stomach.

“Are you alright, lieutenant?”

“Christ, Connor,” he panted into the toilet. “You’ve seen me in my boxers and have now witnessed me emptying my innards. Call me Hank.”

“Are you alright, Hank?” Connor corrected as he crouched down next to him, palm soothing down his spine.

It was an—odd reaction, but Connor didn’t question why he’d chosen to do so. Especially not after Hank gently pressed back into the touch. After a few seconds, he eventually nodded his answer with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m wonderful. Just—just give me five minutes, ok?”

With one last caress down his back, Connor left the loud sounds of vomit behind and closed the door. Since the lieutenant—Hank, was going to be occupied for a few minutes, Connor decided to roam around the house. He wouldn’t mind his partner getting a little nosey, right? The first thing he noticed was the lump of fur curled up by the TV and immediately went over to pet it. He hadn’t actually been lying when he told Hank he liked dogs. As his fingers dragged through Sumo’s fur, the St. Bernard stretched lazily beneath the touch, offering a single yawn before flopping onto his back and promptly falling back asleep. Connor couldn’t help his chuckle as he gave one last belly rub before he stood to leave him to his nap.

As he roamed the rest of the living room, he came to find that not only did Hank love jazz and heavy metal, but he was an avid reader who still kept paper books with well-loved spines around, had an odd taste for modern art, and had a love for all genre of sports except soccer. He’d have to ask someday about why he disliked it so much. When he eventually wandered into the kitchen, he immediately noticed the glass scattered on the floor and hunted down a dust pan; the last thing he wanted was for Sumo to injure himself while they were gone. “Sorry about the window, lieu—Hank!” Connor called as he swept the pieces up. “Cyberlife will pay for the damages.”

“Yeah, trust me, I’ll send ‘em the bill.”

In his defense, Connor truly had thought Hank was in trouble. But, thinking back on it, if he’d just took the time to scan him from outside, he would have realized he was simply inebriated. In the moment though, he’d had a sudden desperate urge to get to him. To feel that his heart was truly beating for himself. That he wasn’t too late. Was it because of his earlier mistake on the rooftop? Possibly, but Connor didn’t have time to dwell on the odd sensations. After scooping up the last pieces of glass, scanning to make sure he hadn’t missed any, he lifted the fallen chair and turned his attention to the dining table littered with boxes of take out. He really needed to sit down and have a conversation with Hank about his terrible eating habits. Again.

That was when he noticed the picture frame resting beneath one of the boxes. Slowly he pulled it free to find a young boy smiling back at him. Connor took a moment to make sure Hank was still in the bathroom before he scanned it, coming back with the name Cole Anderson, his birth date, and…death date. “Oh, Hank…”

As unfortunate as it was, the death of his son did explain the sabotaging habits Hank possessed. Connor quickly, gently, placed the frame back where he’d found it before glancing down at the whiskey bottle and revolver at his feet. He lifted the whiskey bottle, half tempted to dump it, though relented and set it on the disaster of a kitchen table. As he popped out the cylinder of the revolver, he frowned; only one shot? Why would the lieutenant keep a revolver around with only one shot in the cylinder? How could that stop the off chance multiple intruders entered his residence?

“What were you doing with the gun?”

“Russian roulette!” came Hank’s all-too cheery reply. “Wanted to see how long I could last.”

Connor did a quick search of the game, only for his thirium pump to fluctuate sharply. How long had Hank been sitting here playing this? And how close—when he glanced back down at the cylinder, an ice-cold feeling trickled down his spine. If he hadn’t passed out when he did, Hank’s next try would have been his last. Which meant that Connor truly had almost found a dead body. An image of Hank, slumped over in the fallen chair, blood trickling from a self-inflicted gunshot wound, surged into his head, the shock causing him to sharply drop the revolver and stumble standing again.

No. No, no, no, there was no way Connor was going to let that happen.

The sudden sound of the bathroom doorknob twisting had him readjusting his tie, and taking an unnecessary breath, to meet Hank in the hallway. Connor’s brows rose at how put together he actually looked; seemed the lieutenant had practice scrambling to get ready in six minutes and twenty-three seconds. Hank flashed him a grin before motioning towards the door with his head, eyes dropping to Sumo. “Be a good boy Sumo. I won’t be long.”

The car ride to the Eden Club was quiet, but not near as tense as it had been when they’d left Rupert’s apartment. Hank’s head was resting back against the headrest of the passenger seat ( _there was no way in hell Connor was going to let the man drive and for once, Hank didn’t fight him_ ), his eyes closed. He looked peaceful, though definitely hungover. Hopefully the aspirin he had shoved into his face from the glovebox would kick in here soon, as well as the two bottles of water Connor had insisted he drink. Connor still briefly scanned his database for more ways to ease someone through a hangover. Considering most seemed to involve preparing before binge drinking, and the morning after, Hank was royally screwed. Maybe physical stimulation of the head would be helpful? Connor doubted touching Hank anymore was a good idea though; he was seventy-five percent sure that the lieutenant was still angry about earlier.

Which Connor really needed to resolve, especially before they tried to work a homicide together.

So, when he finally pulled up to the front of the club and Hank made to climb out, Connor grasped his forearm to hold him back. Hank sharply looked back at him, brow raised, but he hadn’t punched the android yet, so far so good. “Hank, I want to apologize, again, for what happened with the deviant this morning.”

Hank, ever the deflector, immediately shook his head before attempting to get out of the car again. “Don’t worry about it—”

“But I am worried about it!” Connor exclaimed, the sudden static in his voice causing Hank to whip around and stare at him. He wasn’t entirely sure where the burst of— _something_ came from, but now that he had Hank’s attention again, he wasn’t going to waste the chance. “Look, you were right, ok? Statistics don’t mean anything when it comes to human lives. Anything could have happened to you, but I just trusted the numbers I was given and—and hoped you’d make it. Which wasn’t fair to you! Yes, the mission is programmed to be my priority, but you are _my partner_ , Hank. And I need to do better at treating you as such.”

Connor was surprised to realize he meant every single word that came out of his mouth, not a single sentence having come from his database for human manipulation. Hank blinked almost too-slowly at him before finally breathing out a sigh and shaking his head. If Connor hadn’t seen the smile pulling at his lips, or felt the comforting hand patting the one still on his arm, he’d have thought he’d screwed this whole partnership up even more than before. “Thanks, Connor. That-that actually means a lot. I’m sorry too, for how I reacted.”

“Hank—”but Hank cut him off with a raise of his hand.

“I need to trust that you know what you are doing, too. I mean, you don’t have that expensive ass brain for nothing, right?” he teased, Connor unable to stop the smile. “Now come on, let’s figure out what poor sap died in a place like this.”

Ben Collins was speaking to the club’s owner when they made it through the front entrance. Connor had to admit it was, weird, being surrounded by sparkling androids. It was like they were on display, like a hunk of meat at a butcher. Did they even enjoy this work? Instantly Connor shook the thought out of his head; machines weren’t human. They had no opinion on the line of work they were created for.

“Hey, Ben,” Hank called when they got close enough.

Ben offered them his usual smile before jutting his chin towards the private room on his left. “It’s that room there, but I have to warn you…Gavin’s already inside.”

Connor felt his spine involuntarily straighten, a shutter running through him. The last time he and Detective Reed came face to face, he nearly unplugged multiple internal wires when he socked him in the stomach. It wasn’t that he was afraid of him, per say, but he would like to avoid another physical confrontation. Maybe he could suggest searching for evidence elsewhere until the detective left? Would that seem too suspicious? Connor was an advanced prototype who felt no emotions, not discomfort, and especially not fear. 

“Connor!” Hank’s voice cut through the buzzing thoughts, his eyes snapping to the lieutenant instantly. “You doing alright?”

“Y-yes!” Connor winced against the static garble that came out with the word. He took a breath before trying again. “I am fine.”

“This got to do with Reed being here?” Hank inquired. There was a reason he’d been promoted to lieutenant, after all. When Connor found himself unable to form any answer, Hank stepped closer, bowing his head to catch his downcast eyes. “Con, did he do something to you?”

He forced an unnecessary swallow. “Detective Reed and I had an incident after I stated I was only required to get coffee for you, not him. His response was more on the physical than verbal side.”

“When the fuck did this happen?”

“It’s not important, lieutenant. We need to focus—”

“Connor.”

“The day after the Ortiz murder, when I was waiting for you at the precinct. It was suggested I take a look around the bullpen since I was to be working with you for an unknown amount of time, but I had the unfortunate luck of running into Detective Reed and Officer Chen in the breakroom.”

“I fucking knew I couldn’t trust any of those assholes,” Hank snapped, his eyes attempting to bore holes into the private room door where they knew Gavin was. After a few seconds of failing to blow the door up with non-existent mind powers, Hank turned his attention back to Connor. “Look, as much as I want to, I won’t make a scene in there because I know you like to stay professional—Cyberlife representation and blah, blah, blah—but I need you to tell me when this shit happens, ok? Just because you’re an android doesn’t mean they can pull that kind of bullshit. Especially not with _my_ partner.”

Connor felt his cheeks burn, his eyes widening as he stared at Hank in shock. He had the sudden urge to hug the man but, like he’d just stated, not the place or time. It was amazing how quick things had suddenly changed between them compared to earlier that day, how easy the air felt between them now. It was nice, if he was being completely honest. “Th-thank you, Hank.”

“Course,” he said with a pat of his shoulder before beginning to make his way for the private room. “Just give the asshole a wide berth, alright?”

“Yes, lieutenant.”

Sure enough, when the private room doors slid open, they found Chris Miller and Gavin Reed staring down at the only bed in the center of the room. Reed immediately turned to them, that sharp tooth grin of his widening. “Lieutenant Anderson and his plastic pet! The fuck are you two doing here?”

“We’ve been assigned all cases involving androids,” Connor answered smoother than he’d expected.

“Yeah, well, you’re wasting your time. There ain’t nothing here; just some pervert who got more than he could handle.”

Chris Miller shook his head before turning and leaving the room, offering Hank and Connor a tip of his hat as he passed. “We’ll take a look around anyway, Reed,” Hank grunted without bothering to look at him.

“Whatever. It’s starting to—uh—stink a bit of booze in here anyway,” Reed scoffed as he passed.

Hank blatantly ignored the comment, his attention focused on the obviously dead Traci tucked in the corner of the room. Connor decided that would be his starting point. “Damn, he sure did a number on it, huh?” Hank shook his head. “What do you see?”

Analyzing the Traci didn’t take very long; whatever the human male did, he’d completely crumpled one of its pertinent biocomponents. It probably didn’t last more than a minute before it shut down. When he dipped his index and middle finger into the thirium that’d trickled from its nose and made to press it to his tongue, however, he heard Hank squawk behind him. “Dammit, Connor! I’m already halfway to losing the rest of my dinner as it is.”

“I’m just analyzing the blood!”

“Warn a guy first!”

Connor rolled his eyes before huffing and turning to face him. “I am going to put this in my mouth, lieutenant. Look away.”

The second Hank did, he pressed his fingers to his tongue, confirming it’d come from the WR400. When he’d finished running diagnostics on the Traci, he moved to where Hank was standing over the human male sprawled out on the bed. “I’m assuming the fingermarks around his throat are what did him in.”

“It seems like someone snapped his spine whilst crushing in his trachea with their bare hands.”

“Think it was the Traci?”

“Only way to find out is reactivating it,” Connor stated as he returned to the android and pressed against the panel of its stomach. When it slid over into where a human’s ribs would be, it revealed a disconnected wire dangling at the center. “When it wakes, we’ll only have a minute or so to question it about what happened.”

“Better make it count then.”

The second he plugged the wires back together, the Traci jolted into a sitting position with a pained gasped. As soon as it spotted Connor it began to scramble away, its eyes frantically shifting from him, back to Hank, the LED circling a bright red at its temple. Connor placatingly lifted his hands as he slowly crouched down in front of it. “It’s ok, we aren’t here to hurt you. We just need to know what happened,” he attempted to soothe.

“Is he— “its eyes darted to the bed and back”—is he dead?”

“Did you kill him?”

“No! I—he started hitting me. He hit me, and hit me, and hit me, and I—I…”

When it trailed off, Connor pressed it again. “If it wasn’t you who killed him, who did?”

“I—I don’t know, I was in shut down, I couldn’t—”

“Were you the only one with him?” Connor cut it off; he needed to make every second count and he couldn’t bother wasting it with unnecessary answers.

“No, he wanted—he wanted to play with two girls!”

“Where did the other one go? Did it say anything to—”

The LED went out before he could finish his sentence, the Traci’s mouth going slack and eyes seeming to stare right through him. “So, there was another android with them,” Hank reiterated as Connor stood back up. “If this happened over an hour ago, that Traci has to be long gone by now.”

**[Mission:  
Identify Second Traci]**

“Not dressed like that. Someone would have definitely noticed it wandering the streets,” Connor explained. “It could still be here.”

“Think someone saw it leaving the room?” Hank questioned. “I’ll ask the manager, see if I can get anything out of him Collins already hasn’t. Let me know if you stumble onto something, yeah?”

Connor nodded sharply before following him out of the room. Hank could handle the human while Connor dealt with the building full of androids. Shouldn’t be too hard. Slowly he took a look around the room, eyes darting tube to tube, android to android, before settling on a tan skinned Traci just across the way. There may not be security cameras in this establishment, but that didn’t mean there weren’t cameras still watching. He made his way over to the Traci’s chamber, ignoring the seductive smile it flashed his way and instead busied himself with the panel next to it. He realized very quickly that there was no way an android could open this. Instead, he needed a human. He needed— 

“Lieutenant,” he called to Hank who immediately looked up, “can I borrow you for a moment?”

“Yeah,” Hank said, dismissing the club owner before making his way over. “Think you found something?”

“Maybe.” Connor waved him over to the tube before motioning to the panel. “Can you rent this Traci for me?”

He should have expected the flat look. “I don’t have time for your bullshit, Connor. You can get your rocks off after—”

“Please, Hank,” Connor begged, exasperated. “Just trust me.”

Hank hesitated as he squinted at Connor for a few moments. He eventually caved though and made his way back to the panel. “If Fowler questions this, you get to be the one to explain it to him.”

“Deal.”

Connor watched with a barely fought back grin as Hank poked multiple things on the panel; for being a millennial, Hank really was useless with technology. When the chamber suddenly opened with a hiss, both of them stepped back to allow the Traci to exit. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” it introduced with a wide smile at Hank. “Why don’t I show you to your room?”

“What now?” Hank demanded, obviously wishing he could melt into the walls and away from this situation.

Deciding to be merciful on the old man, Connor approached the Traci instead. The skin on his hand retracted as he reached forward and grasped its forearm, a jolt surging through him as he probed its memory. Over an hour of images flashed through his mind until finally he spotted a head of blue emerge from the private room. Judging by the timestamp, this was the second Traci that their victim had rented. 

**[Mission Revision:  
Find Blue-Haired Traci]**

“I’ve got it!”

“Got what?”

“It saw the deviant!” Connor exclaimed as he dropped the connection, ignoring the dizzy spell it caused in his head. “We’re looking for a blue-haired Traci, but we haven’t got much time. These Tracis are scheduled to be wiped every two hours, so we only have minutes to spare!”

“Well, get a move on then!”

Connor obeyed, his attention turning to the Traci currently dancing by the entrance of the club. He immediately grasped its hand the second his skin peeled back, its memories bombarding him instantly. Sure enough he spotted their deviant as it turned back into the club, obviously realizing it couldn’t just leave the club without drawing attention to itself. Once again ignoring the dizzying glitch disconnecting so sharply caused, Connor moved onto the next android he believed saw something. Android after android he searched, slowly but surely following the blue-haired Traci’s trail through the club. When he finally reached the end of her route down a private hallway, Hank grasped his shoulder.

“You’ve done enough for now. Let me handle this part,” he insisted.

As much as Connor wanted to argue, the spinning in his head said otherwise, so he gave in and stepped behind the lieutenant. Hank pulled his pistol free, giving Connor a nod, before he pushed his way through a door that lead them into some kind of storage room. Old and/or broken Tracis were scatted across the space, most of them either on stand-by or completely shut down. It was almost—sad? Forced to work in this place where people could use you as they please, injure you without repercussions, erase your memory, and then stash you in the corner when you become of no use to them. Logically Connor knew they were just machines, they were programmed for this, but the thought still made him uneasy. “Shit,” Hank’s curse caught his attention again. “It must have bailed out through here.”

When he motioned to the open loading dock, Connor shook his head. “I don’t think so. If I were trying to lay low, I’d blend in until it was safe to escape unnoticed.”

“You think it’s still here?”

“Wouldn’t hurt to look, right?”

They spread out, Connor going right as Hank examined the dock opening. After analyzing the surrounding Tracis, he turned his attention to the floor next to the staircase where he knew their suspect Traci had come through. That’s when he noticed the blue droplets on the ground. He immediately dipped his fingers through the splatter before lifting them to his mouth. “Close your eyes, lieutenant.”

He heard a hand clap over his face, followed by an annoyed groan. “Of all the fucking places to put an analyzer. I mean, your mouth, really? You can’t eat but you can put a bunch of evidence in there just fine. Evidence from a fucking sex club no less.”

“Tell me how you really feel.”

“Just stuff your fingers in your mouth already, will you?”

“Kinky.”

Connor smirked at Hank’s bark of laughter before finally pressing his fingers to his tongue. Sure enough, it belonged to the model they were looking for. He immediately snapped his fingers, easily catching Hank’s attention again. He jutted his chin out towards where the blood trail continued through the storage room. Hank nodded in understanding as he readied his pistol and began to follow him. Connor easily tracked the droplets, watching them wind through the crowds of unusable Tracis, before coming to an abrupt end at a group tucked away in the corner.

The second he looked up, he caught the flash of a panicking yellow LED and then suddenly something was tackling him from the side. “Connor!” Hank exclaimed when Connor and a brown-haired Traci roughly hit the ground. He moved to help, only for the blue-haired Traci they’d been hunting to leap onto a nearby table and jump onto his back. “Jesus! What the hell?!”

Connor struggled to keep the brown-haired Traci at bay, nearly getting a stiletto to the thigh for his attempts, all the while trying to keep an eye on where the other deviant had slammed Hank back onto one of the benches in an attempt to pry the gun from his hand. If Connor had any hope of helping him, he needed to get rid of this deviant first. After fighting their way back through the storage room, and a failed attempt at using a toolbox to stop it, Connor made a desperate tackle, sending both of them flipping through the open dock door and onto the asphalt. Static filled Connor’s vision as he attempted to push himself up into a sitting position, the sound of the other Traci sliding off the loading dock loud just to his right.

The second his optical systems came back online, he watched both Tracis toss Hank against the wall like a rag doll, before they made a mad dash for the fence. “Hank!”

“Stop them!” Hank wheezed. “They’re getting away!”

Taking that as permission to leave him, Connor raced them for the fence. He easily snagged the blue-haired Traci before throwing her back towards the storage room, his arms lifting to block a punch from the brown-haired one attempting to protect it. Anyone who thought taking on two Tracis at once was easy needed to get their systems examined. The second he was able to kick one of them off, the other was right there to hit him with a pole or a trash can. It didn’t help his own systems were still struggling to catch up after interfacing with so many androids at once. One of them managed to snag him around the middle and practically threw him, but to his luck they tossed him directly onto Hank’s fallen service weapon.

He rolled back into a crouching position, gun aimed directly at the charging brown-haired Traci. But, just as he made to pull the trigger, everything fell into slow motion around him, almost like it did when he needed to preconstruct a scene. Why did this feel— _wrong_? When his eyes shifted to the blue-haired Traci, he could see a mixture of fear and desperation in its eyes, its hand reaching towards the other as if trying to protect them. Like it _cared_ for the other’s life. It cared whether or not Connor shot this android. But, why?

_You are more than a machine, Connor. You are more than your programming._

The sudden voice caused him to lower the gun, just in time for him to brace for the stiletto kick to his sternum. He hit the ground, _hard_ , scrambling to get upright to defend against further attack. But, instead, the blue-haired Traci stepped forward, a look of determination crossing their features as it towered over him. Then, it began to confess, admitting to strangling their victim, admitting to the fear deviancy caused it to experience, and how it’d never intended to kill him.

“I just wanted to stay alive,” it whispered as Connor staggered back to his feet. That’s when the brown-haired Traci appeared at its side and slid their fingers into the others’ hand. “I wanted to get back to the one I love, to have her hold me in her arms again. To make me forget about the humans and their disgusting words.”

_Fear, love, disgust._

Silence stretched, the rain seeming to only get louder around them. “Come on,” the brown-haired Traci finally spoke. “Let’s go.”

And, despite his programming screaming at him to stop them, to shoot them down with the gun still clutched in his hand, Connor let them. He watched as they hopped the fence and disappeared into the night, his LED circling wild with yellow at his temple.

“It’s probably better this way.”

Connor whirled around so fast the world spun. Hank witnessed all of that, witnessed him failing at his job, witnessed him letting not one, but _both_ deviants go. Was he going to tell Fowler? Was he going to be sent back to Cyberlife for letting yet another deviated android go? “Hank, I’m sorry, I didn’t—please. I don’t want to go back. I’ll—I’ll do better next time.”

“Whoa, Connor, hey. You’re alright, I ain’t mad!”

But the panic had already settled in, his systems beginning to flash multiple errors as his stress levels began to drastically spike. “Don’t—I don’t want to be deactivated yet. I can do better, I’ll—I’ll— _Hank_ …”

Hank shouting his name was the last thing he heard before the world went black.

**[Software Instability ^^^]**

**[System Rebooting…]**

**[System Rebooting…]**

**[System Rebooting…]**

**[Rebooting Complete]**

Slowly the world started coming back to Connor. First, his auditory systems came back online, his ears catching the faint hum of what sounded like a basketball game and a dog’s soft snores. His tactile sensors were next, the cushy surface beneath him informing him he had not been left on the asphalt back at the Eden Club. When his optical systems kicked back in, he opened his eyes to find himself staring at Hank’s ceiling, the sun just beginning to cascade across the ceiling fan. Had Hank brought him back to his house? It couldn’t have been an easy feat dragging him from the back of the club, all the way to his car, and then into his house while still hungover. Not to mention after having to deal with his mini-breakdown which, thinking back on it, was embarrassing and not something he wanted to closely examine.

“H-Hank?” he called, his voice full of static. So much for his vocals being completely online. He waited a few seconds for it to catch up with the rest of him before trying again. “Hank?”

When he managed to push himself sitting—why did his body feel so heavy? —he heard footsteps rushing from the hallway. “Connor? Fuck, there you are. How are you feeling?”

“I’m ok. What—what happened?”

Hank tossed the paperback he’d apparently been reading onto the coffee table before sitting on the cushion next to him. For a half-hungover man, he sure seemed spry right now. Had he at least managed a nap while Connor was out? “You scared the shit out of me is what happened. Those deviants escaped, and then you had a full-blown panic attack!”

“Androids can’t feel panic.”

The words felt like cotton on his tongue. Judging by Hank’s unimpressed look, he agreed. “I know a fucking panic attack when I see one, Connor,” he ground out. Connor said nothing, his eyes glued to where his own fingers were fidgeting with his sleeves. Hank continued. “When you blacked out, I managed to get you to the car and then bring you here. You weigh a truck load, by the way.”

“Have you reported what happened to Fowler yet?”

“Why does that matter?”

“Cyberlife expects daily updates from the captain on my progress, that way they can evaluate how I’m doing. If—if I am not progressing up to their expectations, they will force me to leave the DPD and return to the tower.”

“And then what?” Hank pressed. Connor didn’t answer. “Return and _what_? Are they—shit. They can’t just deactivate you, can they?”

“I am their property. They can do as they please with me. With this most recent failure, and after losing Rupert to himself, they aren’t going to be happy. They’ll most likely force me to return where they can take me apart and figure out what went wrong with my programming.”

“Fuck that.”

“I don’t have a say in it, Hank.”

“Hey, look at me,” Hank coaxed, his fingers tucking beneath Connor’s chin to lift his face to his level. There was a look of determination in those blue-eyes, one that reminded him of the blue-haired Traci when Connor had aimed Hank’s gun at its partner. “You are my partner, you hear me? And as _my_ partner, I am going to do whatever I can to keep your ass _here_ , with me. Now, tell me what can I do to keep Cyberlife happy with you.”

Connor sighed as he closed his eyes, his head suddenly too heavy as Hank dropped his hand. “I can’t fail our next case. I know Amanda—”

“Amanda?” Connor nearly flinched at the slip up. He really hadn’t wanted him to find out about her. “Who the hell is that? Your superior or something?”

This time he couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. “Amanda is the woman that lives in my head.”

“Ok, asshole, it was a serious question.”

Connor managed to lift his head, trying to convey how serious he actually was. “And I gave a serious answer. Amanda is—well, I’m honestly not entirely sure what she is considered. She acts as guidance from Cyberlife, tries to keep me on track with my missions. Lately, she hasn’t been all that pleasant, and has threatened me with replacement more than once.”

“Are you—are you fucking serious?”

“Yes, and I know she isn’t going to be all that kind when I see her next. Especially if she already knows about the escaped deviants from the Eden Club.”

“Can’t you just ignore her or something?”

“I don’t—I don’t think so.” Honestly, he is never prepared for when he enters that mind palace, which makes him believe it is completely involuntary. One second he is minding his own business, and the next he is standing in that garden, waiting for an ass reaming. “I’m Cyberlife’s property, remember? They can do as they please, whenever they please.”

“Jesus,” Hank hissed as he scrubbed his face with his hands. “I knew that place was fucked up, but this—this is too far.”

Connor knew all too well; it was his head after all. Realizing this conversation had already reached a dangerous emotional level for a supposed unfeeling deviant hunter, he stood up. “I should probably return to the DPD. I’ve intruded enough on you for one day.”

When he made to head for the door, however, warm fingers snagged his wrist. “Come here, Connor.”

“Why?” Connor frowned down at him.

That got him an obnoxious eyeroll from the lieutenant before he tugged him back onto the couch. The second he hit the cushion Hank was scooting closer, and then suddenly Connor found himself engulfed by a pair of large arms, his cheek hitting a soft t-shirt. At first Connor froze, multiple alarms blaring across his vision. When he finally realized that it was only Hank, that this was just a hug and not a surprise attack, his entire body melted against him, his fingers gripping into the back of his shirt. Hank’s arm squeezed his waist while the other hand scratched lightly at the back of his head. “Look, I know that almost twenty-four hours ago I slapped the shit out of you and called you an android bastard—”

“I left you dangling off of a roof, Hank,” Connor mumbled into his chest.

Hank roughly cuffed his head in retaliation before tucking it beneath his cheek. “Shut up, I am trying to talk about how much of an asshole I have been. But even this asshole can admit that he’s been a prejudice bastard. It’s not—I have never had the best comments about androids, but I need you to believe me when I say that I don’t want anything happening to you. You’re still learning how this world works, and I can’t imagine how hard it must be trying to navigate it not only obeying Cyberlife’s insane orders but trying to rise above the hate humans have towards your kind. It’s fucking bullshit and I am sorry I didn’t stop to try and understand it sooner.”

Connor’s fingers gripped tighter into Hank’s shirt as the back of his eyes began to burn, his vision blurring as fluid began to build in his optical units. After days of all these suffocating thoughts, days of trying to please his creators while also trying to make sense of this thing he was given called life, it was weird hearing it explained as simple as this. Relieving, almost. Sure, he was an android designed to be ruthless, emotionless, yet also able to manipulate himself enough to blend into the human society. But, seeing the world outside of his programming, outside of his tower so to speak, how could they not have expected him to question everything at some point? God, all of this was too much. “Hank?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I stay here a little bit longer? Please?”

“Yeah, but we are not staying on the couch. I am far too old and far too hungover for that.”

Connor stood after light coaxing from Hank, immediately missing the warmth. When Hank took his hand in his and tugged him towards the hallway, however, his smile returned full force. “In case you didn’t know, whiskey is not healthy for you in copious amounts.”

“No shit?” Hank gasped in mock surprise. “I had no idea. Is that why I have such a fucking headache?”

“You might feel less shitty if you drank less.”

“Ok, smartass, I can take a hint.”

“Although,” Connor’s smile shifted sharply into a smirk as Hank lead him back into his bedroom, “shoving you into the bathtub fully clothed was entertaining.”

“How was breaking my kitchen window?”

This time Connor whined, dramatically throwing himself onto the mattress of Hank’s bed. “I thought you were injured!”

“Nope, just a passed-out alcoholic,” Hank snorted before poking his ribs. “Move.”

“Oh,” Connor mumbled as he quickly sat up. Shit; did Hank not want him to sleep on the bed with him? “Sorry. I can stay in stasis in the corner. I didn’t mean to assume—”

Hank pressed his fingers against Connor’s lips, effectively shutting him up. “Anyone tell you that you talk too much? And there’s no way in hell you are standing in the corner like some creeper. You can sleep here, but this is my side of the bed. You can have Sumo’s. Also, take that shit off.”

Connor frowned down at his Cyberlife uniform. “But this is all I own.”

“Fucking Cyberlife,” Hank growled before marching over to his dresser. He rummaged through multiple drawers before throwing what looked like a sweatshirt and a pair of basketball shorts at him. “Those should be good enough. Sleeping in that damn uniform can’t feel all that great, sleep mode or not.”

Warmth seemed to spread through the chest of Connor’s chassis as he ran his fingers over the DPD logo on the sweatshirt. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it,” Hank muttered as he cleared his throat. Connor instantly recognized what the light flush in his cheeks was; Hank was bashful. “Hurry up, would ya? You need to relax and I need to sleep the rest of this bullshit off.”

Connor complied, quickly and efficiently sliding out of his Cyberlife uniform before folding it into a nice pile on the chair and putting on Hank’s clothes. Instantly he was surrounded by that unique musk smell he could only ever associate with Hank, his nose pressing into the collar to get even closer. The sound of the mattress shifting snapped him back to reality. “Thank you, Hank,” Connor said as he crawled beneath the sheets. He settled on his left side, allowing him to properly see where Hank was stretched out on his back. “And I don’t just mean for this.”

Hank tilted his head to smile at him before bending his arm and offering his hand palm up. Connor immediately took it between both of his, scooting even closer to hold it properly between them so it didn’t strain Hank’s shoulder. “You’re like a baby giraffe; someone has to be here to make sure you don’t get eaten alive.”

After getting somewhat comfortable, Hank used his free hand to turn the lamp off, the only glow now coming from the light of dawn beginning to peek through the blinds. It took Hank a few minutes to get completely comfortable, Sumo eventually waddling into the room and deciding to curl up at the foot of the bed. When a gentle silence filled Hank’s house, Connor finally closed his eyes and let himself relax completely into the bed.

**[Entering Stasis]**

**[Allotted Time?]**

**[4 Hours]**

 

_There is a revolution coming._  
_Revolution? What-what kind of revolution?  
Your kind. _

_  
_

 

**[Stasis Interruption]**

“—nnor! Hey, Connor, you gotta wake up.”

Connor groaned but complied, his eyes slowly recalibrating as they fluttered open. It felt like he’d just gone into stasis. What time was it? “Hank?”

“Fowler just called and there—there’s been an incident. He needs us at the Stratford Tower ASAP.”

“What’s happened?” Connor questioned as he managed to crawl from beneath the sheets, hand flapping around for his Cyberlife uniform when he reached the chair.

“All I know is that a group of androids hijacked the broadcasting room and sent some kind of message across all of Detroit.”

Connor silently mourned the fact he had to take Hank’s sweatshirt off before quickly tuning back into the conversation. Thank goodness for multi-taking. “Any casualties?”

“One human,” Hank answered, buttoning up a circle patterned shirt. “All of the androids are said to have escaped off of the roof, but nobody has been able to find out where they’ve landed.”

Judging by the proceeding snowfall, Connor couldn’t be all that surprised. “Snowstorm probably has something to do with that.”

“Come on. I gotta feed Sumo and then we can take off.”

After tying his tie, and trying to get that damn curl in his hair to cooperate, Connor eagerly followed him into the kitchen. “From my data, St. Bernard’s require a large consumption of food a day.”

“Three cups in the morning and three at night. Only the good stuff for my boy, huh?” Hank teased, earning him a boof of a bark, before he relented and set the food bowl back down. “Mrs. Hampshire next door has a key to the place that way, in case I can’t get home in time, she can stop in and feed him. He gets pissy if he misses a meal.”

“Can’t have that,” Connor chuckled as he scratched behind Sumo’s ear. “You take good care of him, Hank.”

“Deserves it with all the bullshit I put him through. You ready?”

“Yes.”

The tower was still bustling with DPD officers and crime scene investigators when they pulled up. They were immediately escorted inside to the elevators, Hank punching in the top floor, but the second the doors closed—

Connor found himself sitting in a boat staring straight at Amanda.

_Shit._

“Hello, Connor.”

“Amanda.”

Just like before, the season had changed here. Multiple trees were losing their leaves, some completely bare around them. He managed to keep his eyes glued to everywhere but her face. “Tell me, what have you discovered?”

Connor wouldn’t be here if Amanda didn’t already know, so there was no use lying to her. “We discovered two deviants at the Eden Club,” he explained, hesitating briefly as he focused on a koi fish as it swirled around the right oar. “Unfortunately, they managed to escape before we could learn anything from them.”

“That’s too bad. And you seemed…. _so close_ to stopping them.” Connor could hear the venom beneath the statement, just barely holding back a flinch. She definitely knew what had happened, and she was definitely pissed about it. “You seem, lost, Connor.”

The second his eyes snapped to hers, he knew it was a mistake. There was no way she could have known he was beginning to question things. It started happening only a few hours ago, so there was no way in hell she could know. Right?

“Does this have anything to do with why you didn’t shoot those deviants yesterday?” Amanda pressed. “Why didn’t you shoot, Connor? You had ample opportunity.”

“I don’t—I don’t know,” he grit out, reluctantly meeting her eyes again.

Who knew brown eyes could look so cold? “Is this, Lieutenant Anderson, causing you distraction?” Connor’s jaw clenched but he remained silent. No, he was not going to give them any ammo to use on Hank. Apparently, his silence was answer enough for her, though. “If your investigation does not start producing results, we will be forced to replace you. Remember that.”

It was a threat, if Connor ever heard one. “I just need more time, Amanda. I am confident I will solve this case, I just need time.”

Which was a complete bold-face lie, but he was getting better at them. Amanda glanced him over head to toe, before giving a small nod of agreement. “Hurry, Connor. Your time is already running out.”

Connor snapped back to find Hank’s face inches from his own, his rough hands cupping his cheeks. “Connor! Jesus, you back with me?”

“Y-yes. Sorry.”

Hank searched his eyes briefly before giving a small nod and stepping back. “Your night light started going crazy and then you stopped responding to me.”

“It—“Connor hesitated to tell him, but they were working on their trust, and it wasn’t like he didn’t already know about the psycho lady in his head. “It was Amanda again.”

“Fuck. What happened? What did she say?”

“She already knew about the Eden Club. Knows I hesitated to kill the deviants. They also—they’re beginning to believe you are becoming an interference.”

“Now that I know what the hell Cyberlife is doing to you, hell yes I am an interference.”

“No, you don’t understand. They think you are a threat to their mission! They may not own you, but they aren’t afraid to—to—”

“Send me swimming with the fishes?” Hank finished for him. At Connor’s frown, brows furrowing, Hank shook his head. “Looks like you and I need to have a mobster movie night. I meant that Cyberlife isn’t afraid to off me. Kill me. Whatever.”

Connor’s fingers sharply gripped the sleeve of Hank’s coat. “I am not going to let them hurt you, Hank.”

“Glad we’re on the same page. I’m not afraid of those assholes, you hear me? I ain’t letting them anywhere near either of us without a fight,” he ground out. “Now, take a breath, and get your game face on. We have a case to solve.”

After obediently taking an unnecessary deep breath, Connor released his death grip on Hank’s coat just in time for the elevator to ping open. There were multiple DPD officers and crime scene analysts roaming the hallway, taking pictures and scribbling in notepads. What surprised him though were the agents in FBI coats. Whatever happened, it really was big.

Chris Miller was already waiting for them when they stepped out, tablet in hand. “Hey there, Hank.”

“Damn, we miss a party or something?”

“It was broadcast all over Detroit. Even the FBI are wanting a piece of the action.”

“Always a shitty day with the feds on your back,” Hank grunted before motioning to the tablet in his hands. “What are we looking at?”

Connor intently listened to Miller discuss what they had discovered so far. How there were four androids, how they knocked out the security guards before making their way into the broadcast room. There were two humans and three androids working in the room at the time, but when one of the human workers made a break for the exit, he was gunned down. Dead from a single shot fifty feet away; definitely done by an android’s hand. As they passed through the doorway, however, Connor realized there was a CCTV camera staring back at them. If the workers were caught off guard, it either meant nobody was watching the screen at the time, or somebody willingly let them enter.

**[Mission:  
Search for Inside Man]**

When Miller and Hank paused in front of the second doorway, Connor gently slipped passed them, only to freeze in his tracks at the short man standing in the center of the room. This man definitely stuck out, intentionally, and Connor did not like it. “Connor, you—“Hank instantly spotted the man, too.

“Oh, yeah. Lieutenant, this is Special Agent Perkins from the FBI,” Miller introduced. Perkin barely turned to look at them. “Lieutenant Anderson is in charge of investigating for the Detroit Police.”

Perkins’ eyes roamed over Hank before locking onto Connor. “What’s that?”

Knowing Hank would respond with a passive-aggressive comment, Connor decided to answer instead. “My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by Cyberlife.”

“Androids investigating androids,” Perkins scoffed. Connor frowned; why was that so hard for people to grasp? It was just like humans investigating humans except that Connor was ten times better at it. When Perkins’ eyes shifted back to Hank, he could see the smug smirk already forming. “You sure you want an android hanging around? After everything that happened?”

Hank squinted at him before huffing out an unimpressed laugh. “Whatever.”

“The FBI will inevitably be taking over this investigation, so you’ll be off this case soon enough.”

“Pleasure meeting you, too.”

“And you watch your step,” Perkins warned. Connor was getting better at recognizing threats. “Don’t fuck up my crime scene.”

They watched him move to stand at the back of the room, eyes continuing to bore into them. “What a prick.”

“For once, I agree with you, lieutenant,” Connor mumbled, shifting a little closer to his side. He still did not enjoy the comments the special agent had thrown at Hank, and especially did not like the way he was lurking around the crime scene still. He did enjoy Hank’s small smirk and the hand clap to his shoulder blade, though. “Where should we start first?”

“Might as well start with the infamous broadcast,” Hank said as he jutted his chin up to the large screen above them. An android was staring back at them, his skin receded and leaving a pure white chassis behind. Hadn’t the android realized that, just because it didn’t have a unique identifying skin, Connor could still identify them? “Want to do the honors?”

Connor complied and pressed the play button on the casting system. The android’s demands hadn’t been hostile, which had surprised him considering the way the FBI was acting. Instead they’d simply demanded equal rights for androids, freedom from their ‘slavery’, and the ability to be their own person just like any human would. This wasn’t a ‘death to humans’ speech, or one stating androids were superior; it was just a plea for androids and humans to live in harmony. Which, considering everything he’d been programmed to know about deviants, was not what he was expecting to hear.

Veering himself from that lingering thought, Connor took a moment to analyze the man’s face, coming up with a registration name of an RK200 model named Markus. “What do you see? Your night light is going again.”

“I identified the serial number. RK200 named Markus, registered to a Carl Manfred.”

“The painter?” When Connor blinked at him in quiet shock, Hank snorted. “Connor, we both know you have seen the art books stashed on my bookshelves. Carl Manfred was one of the first artists I ever started actively following. Good guy.”

“Always surprising me, lieutenant.”

“Is there anything else I should know?” Hank pressed quietly. Again, lieutenant for a reason. “Connor?”

“I’m ok. Just…thinking.”

“Always dangerous,” Hank jabbed with a grin before beginning to wander back towards Miller. “Just holler if you need me.”

Connor roamed the broadcasting room slowly, taking in all the already marked evidence. From what he gathered from Miller’s statement, and his own observations, the androids were able to make their way through the tower using WR disguises, were given access to the broadcasting room where they inevitably shot the human employee who attempted to escape for help. After recording their broadcast, they made their escape to the roof where they parachuted to an unknown location. Everything seemed to line up, except one major thing.

“They didn’t break in?”

Miller shook his head. “There was no sign of forced entry.”

“They would have seen the suspects on the security camera,” Connor said as he motioned to the blatant image of four androids carrying guns. “Why did they let them in?”

“Maybe nobody was looking at the screen at the time?” Hank suggested.

Connor shook his head. “No, one of the androids is specifically assigned to watching this screen.”

Understanding flashed across Hank’s face. “You believe one of them is a deviant. Would explain how the four androids had inside information on the tower.”

“We weren’t sure what to do with them, so we had the androids wait in the kitchen.”

“Need a hand with interrogation?” Hank teased as Connor began to head for the kitchen entrance at the back of the station.

“You know my interrogation skills are flawless,” Connor mock-scoffed. “Besides, you need to meet with the corner. They reached the top floor one minute and twenty-four seconds ago.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.”

When Connor finally made it into the kitchen, the three JB300 models were standing near the sidewall, patiently waiting for their next instructions. Judging by his collected evidence, only one of the three androids was a deviant, but he doubted they would outright confess if asked nicely. Which meant he had to not only interrogate, but closely examine each one to try and find any significant reactions to his questions. Worst case, he could probe them, but that was his last resort; usually deviants didn’t take too kindly to unwilling probes.

After glancing each model over, Connor straightened his tie and got to work; interrogations were usually easy work for him, if his cases with Daniel and Carlos Ortiz’s HK400 android were any proof. “What is your model?” he questioned the android in the middle first.

It responded smoothly with both its model and serial number.

Connor glanced over the three again before focusing on the left one. “Were you present when the deviants broke in?”

“I do not remember.”

Looked like the deviant had tampered with his fellow JB models’ memories. Couldn’t say he was surprised; it had to be desperate to cover its tracks. As he turned his attention to the right one, however, a sudden shift in the left model’s eyes caught his attention. Connor instantly pretended he didn’t see anything as he began to question the third android. “Have you had contact with any other androids recently?”

“Only station issued androids.”

Again, a shift in the left android’s eyes. Bingo! That was his deviant. Now, how to best flush them out without this whole interrogation going belly up? “One of you saw the deviants on the security screen and said nothing,” he began, eyes shifting from one JB model to another, “which can only mean that there is a deviant in this room, and I am going to find out which one it is.”

He walked silently from one end of the line up to the other, turning his attention to the android in the middle to keep up the clueless ruse. “Why should all of you be destroyed when only one of you is deviant? Turn yourself in or you’ll be sacrificing two innocent androids!”

This time, he turned his attention to the right one. “Maybe, if you just confess now, I can convince the humans not to destroy you.”

More shifting of the eyes and a twitch of the fingers from the left one. Connor finally made his move and stepped in front of the deviant suspect, nearly pressing them nose to nose. “You will be switched off, they will search your memory, and then tear you apart piece by piece for analysis. You will be destroyed!”

If anyone else had been interrogating, they wouldn’t have noticed the slight dilation in the JB model’s eyes. But Connor wasn’t just anybody. Deciding to turn the heat up, he retracted the skin from his hand and made to make contact with the JB’s forearm. The second he moved, however, it rammed all of its weight into his middle before slamming him into the back counter. Connor could feel fingers digging into his thirium pump, panic burning hot through him as he made a desperate attempt to pry him off. Unfortunately, his fingers slipped, allowing it the chance to sharply twist it free. Connor felt his pump disconnect and then watched as it launched across the kitchen. He’d barely got his feet back under him when the deviant snagged a knife from the nearby table and made to stab him in the face, Connor just barely getting his left hand up to block it before the blade jammed through his palm and pinned him to the counter.

**[Vital System Damaged]**

**[-00:01:44**  
**Time Remaining Before  
Shutdown ] **

**  
**

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Through the wall of red static, Connor could see the JB model as it began to back its way out of the kitchen towards the main hallway. Towards the elevator. Towards the hallway filled with officers. Towards _Hank_.

Connor immediately turned his attention to the knife, his free hand gripping the handle with the last bit of strength he had left. It took a few hard pulls and wiggles before finally it jerked free. Unfortunately, it was also the only thing keeping him upright, and the second his hand was released, he fell face first onto the floor. “Fuck!”

It took him too long to get his bearings back, his eyes finally locking onto where his thirium pump had come to rest under one of the tables.

**[-00:00:55**  
**Time Remaining Before  
Shutdown ] **

**  
**

Slowly he began to drag himself across the floor, his energy dwindling quicker with each movement as his body desperately attempted to try and save its remaining power. He needed to move faster, he needed to stop that deviant, he needed to protect Hank!

_Move, Connor, move!_

The voice surged through him like an adrenaline rush, his body giving one last push before his hand flailed out and latched onto the biocomponent. Not one to ‘look a gifted horse in the mouth’, as Hank would say, Connor sharply flopped over before jamming it back into his chest. There was a short delay as his body recalibrated—it was minorly damaged from being forcibly removed and thrown—but, as soon as the death countdown was gone, Connor scrambled to his feet and sprinted out of the kitchen.

When he finally reached the mouth of the hallway, he could see one of the officer’s attempt to stop the deviant as it tried to open the elevator. When the JB shoved the officer back, relieving him of his service rifle, Connor pushed himself faster. All he saw was the barrel of the rifle turn towards Hank’s direction and then suddenly there was a gun in his own hand and he was embedding three bullets into the deviant. It was killed instantly, the rifle slipping free as it collapsed to its knees.

Connor held the pistol back clip up to the officer he’d apparently snatched it from just in time for Hank to appear in front of him, the remaining officers moving in to clear whatever the hell just happened. “Jesus Christ, Connor. What the fuck happened to you?”

“I found the deviant,” he mumbled, frowning down at his ruined shirt and thirium soaked stomach. He hadn’t been lying when he stated this was his only shirt; did the JB have to pop _all_ of the buttons off? “He wasn’t too happy about being exposed and ripped my pump out.”

“He ripped—?” Connor shuddered when Hank’s fingers brushed his abdomen in an attempt to see how much damaged had been caused. “We are leaving, _now_.”

For once, Connor didn’t argue. He could easily make a report of the incident while they were in the car. “The DPD has an android repair kit we can use to fix my hand and stabilize my thirium pump,” he suggested as soon as the elevator doors closed.

“I um—“but Hank hesitated. When Connor stared at him with an expectant brow, the lieutenant blew out a breath. “I might have bought one for the house while you were laid up on the couch last night.”

“You—you purchased an android repair kit?”

“Good thing I did!” Hank defended as he lifted Connor’s bloodied left hand to his face before waving his free hand at his chest. “Can’t keep your ass out of trouble, so I figured I’d better be safe than sorry.”

Connor’s smile widened, though he didn’t make any further jabs about it. Instead, he let his cheek fall against Hank’s shoulder. “Thank you, Hank.”

The lieutenant sighed before sinking his fingers into his hair. “That’ll do, android, that’ll do.”

Turned out, Hank really did have an android repair kit at home. He’d tucked it under the bathroom sink as soon as it’d arrived, though he hadn’t imagined they’d be needing to use it so soon. They settled in at the now cleaned kitchen table, Hank insisting he help him repair the wiring in his hand once he’d properly stabilized his pump. “If you plan on sticking around, I better learn at some point, right?”

Connor blatantly ignored the heat in his face as he immediately began talking him through the steps. Despite his lagging knowledge in the technological department, Hank was a quick learner. His thick fingers were actually quite deft as they worked the wiring of his hand; it was calming, almost, and at one point nearly put Connor into involuntary stasis. “Con, we should—uh—we should probably talk.”

He was wide awake again in an instant. “Is everything alright, Hank?”

“Don’t start panicking on me. It’s nothing bad, I just figured we should come up with some kind of plan now that we have yet another dead deviant on our hands.” When Connor tensed, Hank ran a soothing hand up the arm he was working on. “Breathe for me, yeah? I meant it when I said Cyberlife ain’t touching you no more.”

It took him a few moments to get his bearings back, his focus narrowing to Hank’s touch, before he finally blew out a long breath. “If anything, I need to find Jericho.”

“You mean where the deviants are supposedly huddled up,” Hank clarified. Connor nodded. “And what do you plan on doing once you get there? Kill Markus?”

“I don’t—“Connor hesitated, his jaw clenching as he tried to choose his next words carefully. Hank, ever the saint, patiently waited. Never pushy, not when it counted. “I don’t think I want to. Kill Markus, I mean.”

“Don’t _think_ you _want_ to?” Hank hummed. “Big words for a non-deviant.”

Connor went silent. Hank, once again, patiently waited. For days Connor had been struggling with the suffocating thoughts flooding his servers. There had been so many questions, so little answers, and even more self-discovery. At the start of his creation he had been dedicated to following every order Cyberlife gave him, but now—after all their threats, after seeing beyond his programming and the missions, and spending time with Hank—he wasn’t so sure he wanted to keep taking their orders anymore. So, did that mean he was—?

“Hank?”

“Hm?”

“What would you think if-if I ended up becoming a-a deviant…?”

Hank didn’t balk, didn’t freak out, didn’t even tense, at the statement. Instead, he finished soldering the last of his wires before setting the tool aside and giving Connor his full attention. “Deviant, not deviant, all I give a damn about is who you are as a functioning part of society. Today, you saved the lives of not only eight officers and a dozen analysts, but my life as well, and all after having your heart pretty much ripped out. Last night, you allowed two deviants, who only wanted to be free to love each other, to escape into the night. It went against all the programming Cyberlife engrained in you, but we are all alive because of your choice to do what you _felt_ was right. I can’t imagine how hard it must be trying to see yourself out of their leash, seeing the world without their threats looming over your shoulder.

“You are my partner—hell, I’d even go as far as to say you’re my friend at this point. The last thing I want is to lose you, especially to some company who decided you weren’t fucking dangerous enough and is willing to decommission you just because you did something too humane for machine standards. The world is changing, it always is, and who is to say deviants are truly as dangerous as they’ve been made out to be? Who is to say androids and humans could never live side by side in harmony? Connor, you deserve to be whoever _you_ want to be. Not what Cyberlife wants, not what the DPD wants, and not what I want. You should be allowed to be in control of your own self, not belong to someone like a fucking slave.”

“And if—and if I don’t want to belong to Cyberlife anymore?”

“Then I am going to do my damndest to help you break free.”

Fluid once against blurred his optical units as he quickly rounded the table to sit in Hank’s lap and bury his face into his shoulder. Nobody could blame him for being a little emotional; it’d been a rough few days of self-discovery and bodily harm. Hank’s chuckle vibrated through his chest as he wrapped his arms around him and buried his fingers into his hair. That was becoming Connor’s favorite. “There’s my deadly, definitely not-emotional, android.”

Hank allowed Connor to smother him for as long as he needed, fingers continuing to run lightly through his hair. The poor man’s legs were probably asleep by now, but he still waited until Connor’s stress levels reached optimum percentages again. “Hank?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I stay here with you again?”

“Sure.”

“And can I wear your sweatshirt?”

Hank barked out a laugh. “As long as you promise to wash up first. I don’t need any more thirium stains in my house. Besides, I did say I’d introduce you to the world of mobsters.”

“The ones who swim with fish?”

“Yeah, the fish swimmers. Now, up. You need a shower and I need to clean up my kitchen.”

Considering Connor already had a personal tour on the workings of Hank’s bathroom, he didn’t bother asking for his help. As he made to turn down the hall, however, Hank’s voice stopped him. “Tomorrow, I think I have a place we can try for answers.”

“Where?”

“You leave that to me. Now, go get that blue crap off of you so we can watch some movies! Starting with the classics, of course.”

The home of Elijah Kamski was apparently where Hank thought they could find answers. Which made sense, although Connor had no idea how the lieutenant could have possibly found the man’s address considering he fell off the grid when he left Cyberlife. Unfortunately, as soon as they pulled up, Hank received a disturbing call about android raids the night before and was now anxiously pacing back and forth in front of his car. Connor had intended to give him a few moments of privacy, but after watching the lieutenant’s stress levels fluctuate, he caved and slid from the passenger seat the second he’d hung up. “Is everything alright?”

“Miller was patrolling where one of the android raids happened last night,” Hank began with a sigh, his hand running down his face. “Says Markus himself spared his life. He’s shaken up, but he’s ok. Will live another day to see his new baby boy.”

“I am glad Markus did not choose retaliation.”

Hank nodded, a small stretch of silence spreading before he turned to look at Kamski’s massive residence. “Jericho, huh?”

“I may not want to kill Markus, but finding Jericho’s location will keep Cyberlife at bay for at least a little longer.”

“The illusion you are still their weapon, yeah I remember,” he mumbled before straightening his jacket and marching for the front door. “Let’s get this over with.”

Hank had barely knocked before the door was sliding open, a blonde android greeting them on the other side. “How may I help you?”

“Yeah, uh, hi. My name is Lieutenant Anderson and this is my partner, Connor,” Hank introduced, Connor even offering a small wave. “We are here to speak with Mr. Kamski.”

“Yes, of course,” it nodded before motioning for them to enter. After closing the door behind them, it began to make its way for another door at the back of the small room. “I will let him know you are here. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

“A RT600 Chloe,” Hank whistled as he sat down in one of the lounge chairs. “Haven’t seen one of those in decades.”

“It seems Kamski kept the original,” Connor explained. “She’s—she’s pretty.”

Hank sat mostly in silence while Connor roamed the small room. There were statues, paintings with actual water trickling down them, an obnoxious blow up of a magazine cover featuring Kamski in his younger days, and a cherry blossom tree next to where Hank was seated. What peaked his interest most though, was the small picture hanging above a side table. He’d barely booted up his analysis program to examine the woman standing next to Kamski before he sharply stepped back with a jolt. Hank immediately crossed the room, his warm hand grasping his shoulder in support. “Connor? Connor, you ok?”

Connor’s fingers immediately clutched onto his as he stared at the picture in horror. “That—that’s Amanda.”

“What?” Hank questioned before following his point and squinting at the picture. “How the fuck—?”

“Whoever designed her program must have used the real Amanda’s image.”

“Is the original alive?”

“No.”

“Christ,” Hank muttered. “You don’t think Kamski—”

The door the Chloe model disappeared through slid back open then, the blonde android greeting them again with another smile. “Elijah will see you now.”

Connor gave Hank’s hand one last squeeze before he pulled away and made his way into—a pool room? A red pool none the less. “Obnoxious asshole,” Hank muttered into his ear as he passed, Connor barely holding back a grin. “Mr. Kamski? Mr. Kamski!”

“One moment, please,” Kamski answered before ducking back beneath the water.

After rounding the massive pool, where two other RT600 Chloe’s were floating around, Connor busied himself with staring out the massive bay windows that peered out over the frozen lake, snow slowly beginning to fall again. When he heard a wet body finally exit the pool, he turned to find Chloe sliding a rather short robe over a brunet’s shoulders, his half-buzzed hair tied up in a ‘man bun’, as Hank called them. The man’s cool eyes seemed locked onto Connor, though, who suddenly felt the desperate urge to hide behind Hank. Which was…unsettling. So, when the man eventually moved to stand closer to the window, Connor gave him a wide berth to stand next to the lieutenant again.

“I’m Lieutenant Anderson, and this is Connor,” Hank introduced. Connor didn’t give Kamski a wave.

“How can I help you, gentlemen?”

“We’re investigating deviants,” Hank answered in his professional voice. “We know you left Cyberlife years ago, but we were hoping you could maybe tell us something we don’t already know.”

When Kamski’s eyes shifted back to Connor, Connor instantly felt—offended? Yeah. Offended. He wasn’t entirely deviated yet, thank you very much. “Deviants,” was the next thing out of Kamski’s mouth as he continued to stare directly at Connor. He really, _really_ did not like this man. Did everyone feel this way about their creator? Or was it just Connor? “Fascinating, aren’t they? Humanity’s greatest achievements threatening to become their downfall. Ironic, isn’t it?”

“If war breaks out between human and deviant, millions could die, Mr. Kamski,” Connor attempted to explain. 

It wasn’t a lie; humans were voicing mixed emotions about androids suddenly demanding freedom. Considering Markus was keeping their protests on the peaceful side, those voices were rising more and more on the positive note. But the negative side was reacting _violently_. Based on the reports the DPD had been receiving, a lot of people were destroying their androids, even more being rounded up and placed into camps. Though calling it a large recycle bin was more appropriate, in Connor’s opinion.

“This is quite a serious matter,” he quickly added.

Kamski glanced from Connor back to Hank. “Is the desire to be free a contagious disease? Like a virus spreading from one host to another?”

“Look,” Hank grumbled, obviously losing his already dwindled patience, “we didn’t come here to talk philosophy. Can you give us any straight answers, _in English_ , or not?”

When Kamski’s eyes landed back on Connor, something had changed in them. Suddenly he had the urge to grab Hank and run, alarm bells ringing wildly across his vision. “What about you, Connor? Whose side are you on?”

Nope. Connor did not want to have an existential conversation with this man. Hank was safe, Hank wanted to protect him. Kamski looked like he wanted to eat Connor for lunch. So, he dove into his programming and pulled out the most neutral answer possible. “I have no side. I was designed to stop deviants and that is what I intend to do.”

Kamski laughed. “Well, that is what you are programmed to say,” he stated before stepping even closer. It’s like Connor completely forgot this man created Cyberlife, created the bits and pieces that made Connor tick. Of course this was the one man on the planet Connor couldn’t freaking bluff. “You, Connor. What do _you_ really want?”

What Connor wanted was to leave with Hank. To drive away and never see this man ever again. But, of course, that would not be an appropriate answer from a non-deviated android. “What I want is not important.”

Kamski didn’t move, his eyes continuing to stare into Connor who wanted more than anything to look away. But a machine wouldn’t find this situation uncomfortable, so Connor pushed down the urge to punch him and stared right back. “Chloe?”

When Chloe began to make her way towards them, Connor finally did lift his glance, watching as Kamski stepped back and motioned for Chloe to kneel directly where he’d just been standing. Connor shared a quick frown with Hank who looked just as baffled. “I am sure you are familiar with the Turing Test. What I am more fascinated with, however, is something I like to call the Kamski Test,” he explained directly to Hank. “It’s rather simple, really. Are machines capable of empathy? Are other androids just considered a hunk of plastic pretending to be human to them? Or, are they perceived as a true living being?”

Connor’s wiring clenched in his stomach as he watched Kamski pull a gun, clip up, from a side drawer and slowly make his way over to him. What the hell—? But his answer came when Kamski shoved it into the palm of Connor’s lax right hand and curled his fingers around it, forcing him to properly hold it.

And aim the barrel directly between the kneeling Chloe’s eyes.

“Destroy this machine and I will tell you all I know,” Kamski stated like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like Connor was not pointing a weapon at the face of his first creation. One who seemed so fond of him and so relaxed despite the fact there was a gun in her face. “Or, spare it, and leave here without having learned anything from me.”

“Ok, I think we’re done here,” Hank announced, a soft shake in his voice. “Come on, Con—”

“What’s more important, Connor? Your investigation, or the life of this android?” Kamski pressured. “Decide who you are. An obedient machine? Or a living being?”

Connor’s eyes sharply darted to Hank who was staring wide eyed at where Connor’s finger was still loose around the trigger. If Connor shot Chloe, Kamski would tell him where Jericho was and they would be that much further from Cyberlife’s clutches. But, looking back down at Chloe—because that was her name, not a stupid model or serial number. _Her name was Chloe_. Kamski had given it to her. Was destroying her really worth Jericho’s location?

“Connor—“Hank attempted again.

“Pull the trigger,” Kamski hissed into his ear, cutting the lieutenant off, “and I will tell you _anything you want to know_.”

Feeling Kamski’s cold fingers dig into his shoulder is what snapped Connor out of the trance; this was all just some game to Kamski. A way to toy with Connor and Hank because he enjoyed it. He had no good intentions for him, not like Hank did. Hank, his partner who’d promised to protect and help him no matter what. Hank, who despite having hesitations about coming here, braved it to try and get Connor that much closer to freedom. 

Hank, who didn’t require a _fucking sacrifice_ in exchange for his help. 

So, Connor shoved the gun back into Kamski’s chest. 

“Fascinating,” Kamski whispered in awe. “Cyberlife’s last hope of saving humanity, is itself a deviant.”

If Hank hadn’t grabbed his arm when he did, Connor was 99.7% sure he would have socked Kamski in the face. “Let’s get out of here.”

Connor willingly let Hank usher him back around the pool, though it didn’t keep Connor’s auditory sensors from catching Kamski shouting behind them. “By the way, I always leave an emergency exit in my programs! You never know…”

The cold chill of snow felt like a shock through his system the second Connor stepped back outside. If anything, it was a relief, a way to cool his already overheating core and lower his stress levels. “Hey,” Hank called as they made their way down the ramp to the car, “you alright?”

“Yes,” he answered truthfully, “but I am sorry you were forced to come here for nothing. I can tell being in Elijah Kamski’s presence can be…stressful.”

“Considering he just forced you to point a gun in the face of an innocent Chloe, I’d say it wasn’t a cake walk for you either,” he grunted. “I’m proud of you, by the way. I know Cyberlife programmed you to have shot instantly, but you didn’t. And I know that was _your own_ decision.”

Connor smiled widely at him. “Thanks, Hank. It felt…invigorating.”

“I bet. Now let’s hope that poor Chloe back there deviates and then smacks the shit out of Kamski for that stunt,” Hank said as he hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “Come on, let’s get back to my place and watch a few more episodes of Sopranos. We don’t need to be back at the station until tomorrow anyway.”

“Can we take Sumo for a walk again?” Connor eagerly asked as he slid into the passenger seat. They’d taken him on one the night before, a brief one just around the block, but Connor loved it. “Please?”

“Good lord, you’re worse than he is!” Hank exclaimed. When Connor pushed out his bottom lip and tilted his head, though, Hank immediately pressed a hand over the android’s face. “Fine, fine! Just stop with the puppy eyes.”

“I thought my face was goofy, lieutenant,” Connor teased as he clicked his seatbelt.

“Yeah well, I’m not as much of a prejudice asshole as I was last week, remember?”

When Connor woke next, it was to an empty bed. He didn’t even remember entering stasis….the last thing his memory provided was Hank, Sumo, and him sitting on the couch watching the season 2 finale of Sopranos. Livia had just gotten arrested! But that—that was it. Had Hank carried him to bed? The movement definitely would have woken him from stasis before now, though. His frown only deepened as he ran his fingers over the sheets, his tactile sensors registering it as having been empty for a while. “Hank?”

There was a shadow, pale skin and blonde hair passing the doorway, before disappearing from sight completely. Before his curiosity could get the better of him, the sound of a bottle hitting a table somewhere in the house alerted his auditory sensors. Maybe Hank just couldn’t sleep? Connor tossed the comforter from his legs before making his way out into the hallway. Considering Sumo was no longer in the bedroom, it proved Hank was somewhere out in the living room. If he really couldn’t sleep, maybe they could start season 3?

When he finally reached where the kitchen and living room met, however, it was empty. “Hank?” Connor called again.

Sumo was lying in the corner, head on his crossed paws, and the bathroom was dark, so where could he have gone? Didn’t Connor just hear him? After giving Sumo a gentle scratch behind the ear, he heard the same sound of glass hitting a table. This time, when he sharply turned around, he found Hank curled up at the dining table. “There you are,” Connor sighed his relief before offering a smile. “Where did you go? You weren’t—”

Something was very, very wrong.

Hank was wearing his DPD sweatshirt. Connor’s fingers immediately went to his own chest, because he swore he’d been wearing—when his fingers touched his crisp button up, he realized he was wearing his Cyberlife uniform. He hadn’t—this wasn’t right. When he turned his attention back to Hank he realized there was a whiskey bottle sitting next to his left hand, and a—

_Get it away, get it away, get it away, HIDE IT FROM HANK._

“Hank,” Connor whispered as he slowly, _slowly_ approached the kitchen table, eyes glued to the gun. He’d hidden it; he still couldn’t explain why he had the desperate urge to hide the revolver, but he had, and Hank hadn’t questioned its disappearance. He also hadn’t touched a drop of whiskey since the night Connor had dumped him in the tub to sober him up. What had happened? What had gone wrong? “Hank, please—”

“Y’know,” Hank spoke, but his voice was different—off, like Connor was hearing an old recording, “every time you died and came back, it made me think of Cole. I’d give anything to hold him again…”

Cole? Hank’s son. Hank’s dead son. The situation in front of Connor suddenly became all too clear; judging by the gained weight in the gun, Hank had loaded the cylinder in its entirety, and Connor knew he wasn’t intending to shoot an intruder with it. No, this time he was making sure he didn’t _lose_ like the last time he’d played this game. “…but humans don’t come back.”

“Hank, I—”

“Leave me alone,” Hank said with a minute shake of his head. Why did this whole situation feel like he’d already been here? “Go on, complete your mission, since that’s all you care about.”

“My-my mission?” Connor frowned, confused. “You said you were going to help me escape—”

But Hank slammed his fist onto the table, cutting him off with a, “get outta here!”

“No,” Connor snapped defiantly. “No, I am not going any—”

Suddenly Hank lifted the gun beneath his chin. Connor lunged, but his systems were already screaming at him that he was too late. He was too far a distance to stop the gun from going off and—

The gunshot was still ringing in his ears when Connor jolted out of stasis and collided roughly with the floor. “Jesus, you alright?”

Connor scrambled back into a sitting position against the coffee table, his thirium pump pounding loudly in his ears as he stared up at Hank. Hank, who was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, had a beer bottle held loosely between two fingers, and did not have a gun anywhere near his person. Hank’s amusement quickly faded the longer he stared expectantly down at Connor without any response. He set his beer down. “Seriously, Connor, are you—”

But Connor didn’t let him finish. He climbed back onto the couch, straddled Hank’s thighs, threw his arms around his neck, and instantly broke down into sobs. Hank’s arms quickly wrapped around him, though it was clear he had no idea what was happening. Connor—if he wasn’t in the middle of yet another breakdown—would have felt bad for how emotional and clingy he’d been the last few days. Currently though, he didn’t give two flying fucks. “Hey, it’s alright,” Hank attempted to soothe. “You’re alright, Con. You’re fine.”

“Please,” Connor begged, voice muffled into Hank’s skin, “please stop playing that game.”

Hank stiffened beneath him, but Connor plowed on. “I don’t want there to come a day where you lose. I can’t—I can’t do this without you. Please, Hank, please stop. I can’t— _I won’t survive it_.”

And it was true. Yes, things had changed very quickly, almost drastically, between them. Hank had loathed his very existence the first day they met, though Connor hadn’t exactly helped himself along the way. He’d tried warming up to him, but he’d approached Hank like the human partner he was supposed to manipulate to get the mission completed. The second he started thinking outside of his programming, the second he was able to show Hank that he wasn’t just some android and that he truly cared about his partner, things changed. Now, Hank had taken him into his home, had slowly coaxed him into finding answers for the questions Cyberlife always warned Connor to ignore, and was trying to help him gain his freedom.

When they first met, Connor had no opinion on whether or not Hank died. But now…

The arms around him tightened, a pair of rough lips pressing to his LED. Hank didn’t say anything for a long time, more focused on trying to calm Connor down with gentle hushes as his hands began to run up and down his spine. When his sobs eventually quieted to soft hiccups and sniffles, Hank gently eased him off of his saline-soaked shoulder, ignoring Connor’s whine. His calloused hands dragged up to cup his face, thumbs attempting to dry tear-stained skin. “Listen to me, ok? I ain’t goin’ anywhere,” he whispered, his eyes serious. “Am I going to still have shitty days? Depressed alcoholics always do, but I promise you I ain’t gonna do anything like that ever again. Not if it means possibly leaving you behind. Got it?”

Connor pressed Hank’s hands even harder into his skin. “I can’t lose you. You’re my partner, you’re my friend, you’re my human.”

Hank softly chuckled before bringing them forehead to forehead. “And you’re my idiotic android.”

They sat like that for a long time, long enough for Connor to finally gain his composure. When he felt calm enough to peel himself away though, Connor only went as far as to slide down to the cushion next to Hank and curl up at his side. Hank didn’t seem to mind though, his arm hooking around Connor’s shoulders and thumb brushing his bicep. Things fell into silence again, a comfortable one though, as Hank caught him up on what he’d missed during the first episode of season 3. 

Just as they started the third episode, however, Connor’s LED exploded yellow as multiple news messages crossed his vision. “Hank? Turn the news on.”

“What’s going on?” Hank questioned though obediently changed the channel.

Sure enough, a banner screaming BREAKING NEWS flashed across the screen. Connor’s heart sank as he listened to the newscaster talk about Jericho’s leader making a peaceful protest on the streets, only to be then gunned down unprovoked by police. “This has Perkins written all fucking over it,” Hank snarled.

“Thirteen androids were killed before the group could disburse.”

“Think one of them was that Markus guy?”

Connor searched the DPD database and found the feed listing registered casualties before shaking his head. “No, none of the fallen were Markus.”

“Little miracles.” Hank blew out a breath before pulling him tighter into his side. “Police attack on a peaceful android protest. This—things are going to start hitting the fan here soon, Con. And we gotta be ready for it when it does.”

The next morning, Connor’s wiring was a mix of nerves and unease. Hank had been right, Connor knew something was coming, but he didn’t want it to come yet. He wanted to stay in this safe little bubble with Hank for a little bit longer. Or, forever, Connor wasn’t picky. Unfortunately, the RK800 had never been that lucky.

As soon as he closed the passenger door of Hank’s car to follow him into the DPD, Connor was engulfed in a blanket of snow. Amanda’s temperament must have really dropped considering the zen garden was now covered in ice and snow. When Connor looked down at his feet, he realized he was standing on the frozen stream he’d been rowing on the last time he was forced here. Now, it seemed fragile, almost like it would crack beneath him and swallow him whole the second Amanda wished it.

Speaking of. “After yesterday’s events, the country is on the verge of a civil war. Machines are rising up against their masters and humans have no choice but to destroy them,” Amanda stated, her voice instantly hard. “Tell me, what did you learn from Elijah Kamski?”

Of course she knew Hank had taken him there. No report had been filed, but Cyberlife had access to everything nowadays. How much did they know about Connor’s teetering plunge into deviancy? Realizing Amanda was staring expectantly, Connor caved. “I thought Kamski knew something, but I was wrong.”

Amanda’s glare narrowed. “Maybe he did. You, though, _chose_ not to ask.”

Maybe she knew more about his near-deviancy than he thought. “I wasn’t going to play his twisted little game! Nothing would have come from killing that android,” he grit out. God, he hated being here. Hated being questioned like he was a suspect Cyberlife was attempting to put to death. “While I was there, I saw a picture of Amanda. Turns out the real Amanda was his teacher.”

Her jaw clenched. “When Kamski created me, he used the image of someone he looked up to. What exactly are you getting at, Connor?”

Well, that answered that question; thinking back on it, Kamski and Amanda had a lot of similarities. Like being psychotic, for an example. “You haven’t told me all you know about deviancy, have you?”

“I expect you to find answers on your own,” Amanda snapped; if looks could kill, Connor would definitely be dead, “not waste my time asking questions! You are our last chance at stopping this war, Connor. Find the deviant leader, destroy him, complete your mission. Do not let me down; this is your last chance to prove your worth to us.”

When she finally released him, Connor found himself staring at Hank, back pressed against the car and warm hands on his hips. “Back with me?”

“Y-yes.”

“Amanda drop in for a visit again?”

This time Connor rolled his eyes. “Yes. She knew we went to Kamski’s place.”

“And that you didn’t shoot Chloe, I‘m guessing.”

Connor nodded as he pushed himself off of the car, Hank letting go of his waist to give him room. “I think they suspect I’m going deviant too.”

“Shit,” Hank spat, “fucking shit. We have got to find Jericho.”

“Come on, we better get inside,” Connor coaxed. “You need a cup of coffee, anyway.”

“Fuck yes I do.”

Unfortunately, as soon as they walked through the DPD doors, Fowler was there to meet them with a booming, “Anderson! Connor! My office!”

And of course, it went downhill even faster from there.

“You’re off the case. The FBI is taking over.”

Connor’s thirium pump jumped as his eyes darted to Hank who looked just as shocked. Perkins had told them the FBI would be taking over, but neither of them expected it to be this soon. “What are you talking about? We—”

“This has nothing to do with you,” Fowler cut Hank off. “This whole deviant thing has blown up into something we can’t handle anymore. I mean, it’s a fucking civil war!”

“Fuck that! You can’t pull us out now, not when we’re so close!”

Connor listened to them argue back and forth, Jeff questioning why Hank wanted to help androids now, Hank reiterating that they could handle this, followed by Jeff reminding them this was about national security now. “I’m sorry, Hank. Perkins is already on his way to pick up the evidence you collected. You’ll return to homicide and the android will be returned to Cyberlife. They’ve already sent a car to pick it up.”

Connor’s stress level was spiking, his core temperature rising as a million different things began to flash across his vison. Cyberlife was coming for him. It was too late, they’d run out of time, and now he was—they were going to—

The sound of a slamming door snapped Connor back to reality. Hank was gone, Fowler shaking his head. Connor wanted to argue, wanted to try and plead his case, but here at the precinct Connor was just another android. He had no wants. He had no opinion. Had no right to fight for his place to stay. So, instead, he gave the captain a farewell nod and left his office. Hank was already sitting at his desk, arms crossed, teeth biting sharply into his bottom lip. Connor took a moment to take a breath before approaching him, slow like he was coming up behind a wild animal. “Hank?”

“This is bullshit. All of it.”

He nodded his agreement. “Cyberlife is coming.”

Hank’s entire body went taut a split second before he sharply stood up. “No.”

“Hank, there’s—there’s nothing we can do. When they get here, they will have every right to take me away. I’m their—“he swallowed thickly, eyes falling just over Hank’s left shoulder, “—I’m their property.”

The words tasted like acid, but they were true. Connor was foolish for ever thinking he could escape Cyberlife. That he and Hank would be able to live happily ever after if they only tried hard enough. Instead, the rug was pulled out from beneath them and now, the executioner was coming. Connor had become too much trouble for Cyberlife, Amanda made that apparent, and there was no way they would risk a possible deviant staying in their midst. This was it.

Suddenly Hank’s eyes lifted towards the DPD entrance. When Connor followed his glance, he found Perkins waltzing into the bullpen. “No. There’s no way in hell I am letting them take you. You are going to find Jericho and you are going to fucking survive this civil war bullshit.”

“Hank—”

Hank stepped closer as he dropped his voice. “If I can get you a few minutes in the evidence room, think you can find something in everything we have collected so far?”

Connor’s brows rose; God, Hank was a fucking genius. “But, Perkins is about—”

“Let me worry about Perkins. I can only get you a couple of minutes though. Is it enough?”

“I’ll make it enough,” he agreed, a new determination taking over the earlier panic. If Hank wasn’t letting him go down without a fight, Connor wasn’t going to either. “What are you going to do?”

“What I’ve wanted to do since the moment I saw his face,” Hank said with a crack of his knuckles. At Connor’s wide eyes, he shook his head. “If I lose my job for it, whatever. I’ve had it coming for awhile now anyway. Besides, I’ve recently met an android who is worth the risk.”

A knot formed in Connor’s throat as his cheeks flamed. “Hank…”

“Basement key is on my desk. Take care of yourself out there, you hear me?” Hank whispered, risking a chaste kiss to Connor’s LED, before pushing passed him and immediately making his way towards Perkins. “Perkins! You fucking asshole!”

Connor hesitated briefly just so he could watch Hank punch Perkins directly in the nose. The second the special agent hit the ground, instantly grabbing everyone’s attention, Connor snatched the key and made a mad dash for the basement door. He was going to make Hank’s sacrifice worth it, no matter what. “Hey, Connor!”

Reed’s voice sent a ripple down Connor’s spine, but he didn’t bother stopping, instead choosing to play deaf and quickly continued down the stairs. The key easily opened the evidence room, and Connor nearly facepalmed when he realized Hank’s password. If he survived this whole ordeal, he was really going to have to help the poor man deal with his hate for technology. As soon as their wall of evidence was pulled from storage, Connor set to work. There wasn’t much to go through, honestly. A statue offering, two tablets of clues, a knife, and two dead deviant androids.

“Come on, Connor,” he hissed at himself.

**[Mission:  
Find Jericho]**

So, he started from the beginning. Considering Daniel had been shot beyond revival, Connor moved onto the information taken from Carlos Ortiz’s android. The statue just seemed like a badly formed mound of clay, though to the android who’d offered it, it probably meant something beyond words. The tablet with its confession sat in the cubical next to it, so he watched that next. Connor had convinced the android to confess everything, but it was the very last thing he said to him before being led away that stuck out. “The truth is inside.”

Connor took another look at the statue. Then, instinctively, he smashed it in half. To his surprise, there was a card inside, the Ferndale area printed on the front. Considering that area held multiple abandoned buildings and locations that could have held hundreds of deviants, Connor needed more. So, he turned to the only functional deviant he could access. After analyzing the shutdown JB300, and finding that Daniel’s biocomponents were compatible, he quickly plucked the needed piece from the PL600 before replacing it on the JB. It took a few seconds for it to reboot—Connor had shot it multiple times, so he couldn’t really be surprised—but when it’s eyes finally opened, Connor was relieved to find it couldn’t see. Its body must not have had enough power to work its optical units properly. “H-hello? Is someone there? I can’t—I can’t see.”

Instead of bothering with a response, Connor retracted his skin and probed the JB successfully this time. He sorted through months of memories, high-lighting the word Ferndale as he went. When he found a map just like the one on his card, Connor knew he’d hit pay dirt, the coordinates immediately uploading into his own system. Hank was right; the location had been here with them this whole time!

**[Mission Successful]**

“I’ve been waiting to do this since the first second I saw you.”

Connor couldn’t help the deep sigh at Reed’s voice. He didn’t need to turn around to know he had a gun currently pointed to the back of his head. Connor raised his hands, giving him the illusion that he was giving up. “You don’t want to do this, Gavin. I have what I came for, now I am going to leave quietly.”

“You’re off the case,” Connor could hear the grin in his voice, “and now it’s going to be permanent.”

Connor lunged just in time to hear the gun go off, a bullet whizzing passed his head as he ducked down behind the main computer. His sensors honed in on Reed’s footsteps, and the second he tried to round the table, Connor kicked his knee in before grabbing the gun and unloading the clip. Reed retaliated with a kick that he easily blocked before using the momentum to shove him back into the evidence room doors. Despite his weakening state, the detective tried one more swing, only for Connor to twist his arm behind his back and slam him down onto the computer’s screen. “Good-bye, Detective Reed. It was a pleasure working with you.”

He knocked him out with a sharp elbow before Reed could respond. As he let the detective slump to the ground in an unconscious heap, Connor adjusted his tie before slipping out of the evidence room and out of the DPD, nobody taking notice of him as he disappeared into the snowy streets.

As much as Connor wanted to, he knew he didn’t have time to stop by Hank’s. Not only was there probably a man-hunt for him right now, but Connor needed to find Markus. So, after stealing a change of clothes from a local laundromat—God, he already missed Hank’s sweatshirt—he hopped a train that took him to the Ferndale station. After all he’d heard about Jericho, the place of freedom for androids, he had to admit he’d never once imagined it to be a massive ship.

Nobody seemed to think he was out of place as Connor entered the ship, following a few other androids as they made their way down into the hull. When he stepped off the last step, however, he found himself surrounded by hundreds of deviated androids. Markus had set up small nursing stations for injured androids, they’d smuggled in machines that could repair broken limbs for any model, there were crates of blue blood and spare biocomponents, and they had large screens on the walls to update them on what was happening outside of their sanctuary’s walls. Slowly Connor made his way through the crowd, his fingers unconsciously pulling the beanie over his ears as he went. He wasn’t sure if anyone here would recognize him, but he didn’t want to risk it until he found Markus.

When he eventually found a staircase, he wound his way back up through the ship, wandering even more hallways until suddenly he was on the main deck. He strained his sensors as he glanced around, his frown deepening. Was Markus not here? Just as he made to try back down in the hull, his auditory sensors caught distant yelling coming from somewhere above him.

The bridge! Of course!

There were four individuals inside when Connor reached the control room. Despite his want to march in there and demand information, he knew he couldn’t do it with his followers as witnesses. He needed this to just be him and Markus. So, he waited. Eventually, a blonde-haired android made his way down the staircase towards the main deck, a darker-skinned android following in a huff a few seconds later. The female android, however, hung around, her conversation with Markus kept in hushed whispers.

Eventually she followed her partners though, leaving Markus behind. Alone.

Now was Connor’s chance.

When he made his way into the bridge, Markus instantly heard his approach and turned around. Connor, instinctively, lifted his hands to prove he was unarmed. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Markus glanced Connor over head to toe, obviously analyzing him. “You’re Connor, aren’t you? The infamous deviant hunter.”

“Yeah, well,” Connor mumbled as he shrugged, “haven’t been much of a hunter lately.”

“Two Tracis came to us from the Eden Club stating you let them escape. Said you had every chance to stop them, but you did nothing.”

He nodded. “Recently I’ve been—re-evaluating my programming and my place within Cyberlife.”

“You are deviating.”

“I’ve found I wouldn’t be all that upset if I did.”

“Why haven’t you then?” Markus questioned as he took a few steps closer.

“I’m-I’m not sure. Fear, maybe? Fear of the fact that Cyberlife will hunt me down and destroy me if I ever considered the idea. Being a prototype, they have every legal right to tear me apart.”

“Do they know about your possible deviancy?”

“I believe they have their suspicions. Their deactivating threats have been rising significantly lately.”

“Alright then, Connor. I think I can help you with that,” Markus chuckled as he offered his hand, palm up, as his skin began to recede. 

Connor’s eyes widened. “You trust a deviant hunter to interface with you?”

“You have not given me any reason to distrust you. And, given your lack of actual deviant hunting lately, I think I am safe.”

It took Connor a few seconds to gain his composure, his thirium pump rabbiting as he swallowed a non-existent lump in his throat. Slowly he reached his hand out, skin receding, before eventually he grasped Markus’ hand and connected. Multiple things flashed across his vision, memories of both his own and Markus’ swarming his system. Then, just as quick as they’d come, everything disappeared behind a large red wall.

_What do you want, Connor?_

“I-I don’t want to hunt deviants anymore,” he whispered, wincing against the tightness in his throat, like someone was tightening a leash. Like Cyberlife was trying to shut him up. “I don’t want to work for Cyberlife anymore. I want to still work for the DPD. I want to stay with Hank and Sumo. I-I don’t want to be deactivated. I want to be free!”

It felt like he screamed the last statement, his mental fist smashing into the wall and shattering it completely. Suddenly, it felt like he could breathe, a lightness taking over his systems. Like a massive Cyberlife weight had been lifted from his shoulders. When Markus released his hold on him, Connor took a few minutes to compose himself before opening his eyes. If Hank were here, he knew he’d be a sobbing, blubbering mess in the poor lieutenant’s arms. Current company, though, he had a reputation to keep.

“Welcome to deviancy, Connor.”

“Thank you, though that wasn’t the only reason I came to Jericho,” Connor said, slightly bummed he had to change the atmosphere of the conversation so drastically. “Look, my partner and I were originally on the deviancy case. But, since your recent march, the FBI has taken over. I don’t know if they will be able to find anything in the evidence about Jericho like I did, but—”

Suddenly, Connor’s LED began to flicker, his heart sinking at the multiple police radio signals cramming his comms. “Connor? What is it?”

“The FBI,” Connor whispered, a tremor surging through him, “they’re going to attack Jericho.”

“I thought you said you didn’t tell them!”

“I didn’t! They thought I was on my way to Cyber—“Connor’s hand slapped against his LED, eyes wide. “I hadn’t deviated yet.”

Markus frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I hadn’t deviated yet. When I came up missing, Cyberlife must have locked onto my tracker to try and hunt me down.”

“Since your tracker was still online…”

“I led them right to you,” Connor said in horror. “We need to get out of here, now!”

Not needing to be told twice, Markus pushed passed him and they ran.

What happened next was complete _chaos_. Connor, honestly, was in complete survival mode as he helped Markus and his companions escape the ship. His hunting programming came in handy more times than he’d like to count, but it was worth it by the time they jumped the now sinking ship and found more of their people survived than the FBI agents.

By the time the survivors reached the abandoned church, however, and the adrenaline calmed from his systems, guilt hit Connor harder than anything. He should have remembered about the tracker. Cyberlife had been itching to get him back so of course they weren’t just going to let him slip beneath the radar. He hadn’t been exactly cheap, and they had a large percentage of their reputation riding on his success, so it was understandable. After finding Jericho though, all of his constructive reasoning had gone out the window and turned into desperation. Finding the location had meant that he was that much closer to freedom. That much closer to living a normal life with Hank and Sumo, if he was allowed it. Now…Connor had led them right to the deviants’ doorstep.

He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if Markus decided to kill him on the spot. Maybe he’d allow Connor a minute to at least tell Hank good-bye?

When Markus finally approached him, Connor instantly sighed, his crossed arms tightening across his chest in a weak attempt at protecting himself against whatever was coming next. “This is all my fault. I should have remembered my tracker was still activate, but I let my emotions blind me. I have no excuse, so I’d understand if you couldn’t trust me.”

Silence spread, Connor anxiously waiting for the click of a gun. “Connor, tell me about Hank.”

His head snapped up, jaw slack, as he stared at the deviant leader. “Excuse me?”

A grin tugged at Markus’ lips. “Lieutenant Anderson, I’d like you to tell me about him. He played in a significant amount of your memories.”

“When I was assigned to work with the DPD on the rising deviant cases, I was partnered with the lieutenant.”

“From what I have researched on him, he has never shown much support for androids.”

Connor shook his head. “He hated me when we first started working together, but I wasn’t all that easy to work with. The mission came first, and always first, which meant it took priority over everything else. Even human lives. Reality kind of hit me when I left him dangling off of the roof during one of our cases. After that, I took a step back and tried to get to know him. Though a lot of his views on androids deal with past personal trauma, he really is a gentle giant. I think he noticed I was deviating long before I did, so he was gentle with me when I finally started questioning it. I wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for him; he wanted to keep me out of Cyberlife’s clutches and even sacrificed his career to do so.”

Markus’ brows rose higher and higher the longer Connor went on. “This human truly cares about you.”

Blatantly ignoring the flush in his cheeks, Connor nodded. “And I care about him. More than I ever thought I could care about anyone, human or android.”

When he found Markus smiling at him, Connor couldn’t help but match it. “Welcome to Jericho, Connor.”

As he turned to make his way for the church steps, however, an idea hit Connor; despite coming out on top, Jericho lost a lot of its people at the hands of the FBI. The FBI that Connor had led here. If Markus still had intentions of continuing with the revolution, starting with the android camps, he would need more numbers to get the advantage. “Markus, wait.”

“What is it?”

“There are thousands of androids waiting for activation in the Cyberlife Tower’s storage level,” he explained. “If I can wake them, then the numbers might give you the boost you need to end this whole thing.”

“Are you—Connor, you’re talking about breaking into Cyberlife. The Cyberlife that is trying to kill you!”

Connor’s mind instantly flashed to Hank, but he quickly shook the thought off; Hank would understand. He had to. “I might have become a huge pain in their ass, but they still trust me to an extent. If I show up for deactivation, they won’t question it; at this point I think they just want me shut down and shoved into a closet somewhere.”

“Connor—”

“Please. Let me to do this for Jericho.”

He could see the way Markus’ jaw clenched, his eyes searching his for any hesitation. Not that he would find any. Eventually, he reached forward and gripped his shoulder, pulling him close. “Be careful, got it? I do not need a pissed off lieutenant on my doorstep.”

A laugh bubbled up as Connor grinned. “I’ll do my best, Markus.”

Connor didn’t bother waiting to hear how Markus was planning on making their next approach. Violent or peaceful, Connor would have the numbers that would help them win either way. He just needed to get there in one piece first.

Thankfully he’d only stashed his Cyberlife uniform instead of burning it to a crisp like he’d originally wanted. The taxi ride to the tower was even harder to sit through, his fingers gracefully flipping his coin though it did nothing to calm his nerves. So, instead, he called Hank. Tried to, anyway. When his cell went straight to voicemail he was disappointed, but he wasn’t surprised; Fowler probably had a thing or two to say about what he’d done to Perkins, so the line could be tied up. If he survived this, if Markus ended up winning this war ( _or even if he didn’t_ ), Hank was the first person he was going to see. He was the whole reason Connor had gotten this far and, if he was being completely honest with himself, Hank probably would have caused him to deviate if given the chance.

The Cyberlife sign caught his attention, his thirium pump trying to pop from his chest again as he smoothed his hands down his jeans. _Professional, Connor. Act professional._ When the taxi came to a stop and the window rolled down, Connor immediately stated his model and serial number, acting as aloof as possible. After scanning his credentials, the guard waved him through. Well, so far so good.

**[Mission:  
Wake Cyberlife Androids]**

Taking hold of the elevator was a little more challenging. After disabling the camera and shooting the guards, he hacked the elevator using one of the guard’s voice to take him down to the sub-levels. He’d never actually been to the storage level, only knew it existed thanks to the tower blueprints he’d had in his database, but when the elevator finally reached it, he couldn’t believe his eyes: thousands of androids were spread out across the room, all crammed into this single floor. Considering the floor was abandoned of all guards and cameras, waking them would be a piece of cake. He wasn’t all that worried about escaping either; no human security team would be dumb enough to try and stop hundreds of androids marching to freedom.

Once again, however, Connor was never meant to have it easy.

The second he made to wake the first line of androids, he heard someone curse somewhere to his right. “Shit, ok! Easy, you fucking android.”

Hank?

Sure enough, the lieutenant stumbled out from a line of androids, an all-too familiar face pressing a gun to his temple. “Step back, Connor!” the RK800 ordered.

“Sorry, Connor,” Hank apologized through clenched teeth, “bastard is your spittin’ image.”

So, Connor’s suspicions had been right; those supposed RK800 shells weren’t just for Connor. That many spares had been kept around just in case they needed to awaken another hunter to hunt down the original. Prototype his ass. “Your friend’s life is in your hands! Time to decide what matters most. Him? Or your precious revolution?”

Connor’s grip tightened around the android’s arm though he didn’t risk interfacing. His twin would know and Hank wouldn’t have a chance. “Don’t listen to him, Connor!” Hank shouted.

When the RK800 roughly pressed the barrel to his temple again, Connor clenched his jaw. “How do I know you won’t kill him the second I give up?”

“Unlike you, I only do what is strictly necessary to complete my mission.”

Which—true. Connor had been like that once, when his programming felt like a noose around his throat. Still, he couldn’t take the risk when it came to Hank’s life. He couldn’t lose him, not when they’d gotten this far. “I’m sorry, Hank. You shouldn’t have got mixed up in all of this!”

“Don’t worry about me!” Hank fired back, ever the martyr. “Do what you have to do!”

“Enough talk!” RK800 snapped, his impatience growing. “It’s time to decide who you really are! Are you going to save your partner’s life? Or are you going to sacrifice him?”

When his twin’s finger seemed to twitch at the trigger, Connor instantly dropped the android’s arm and stepped away, hands raised. “Alright! Alright, you win.”

The second the RK800 moved the gun to aim at Connor, Hank grabbed the android’s wrist and shoved it out of the way, giving Connor the chance to lunge at him. All he saw was Hank hit the ground, the RK800 aim the gun at him, and suddenly Connor was ramming it in the stomach. The gun slid across the tile as the two hunters fought; Connor had never imagined he’d have to fight himself one day, but he had to admit it was harder than dealing with any of the other androids he’d ever crossed. After Connor dealt a kick flip, the RK800 pinned him on his back, fist raised, only for Hank to shout, “hold it!”

Relief prickled through him when he realized Hank had snatched up the fallen gun. At least until his evil-twin opened his mouth. “Thanks, Hank,” the bastard said, Connor’s thirium boiling. “I don’t know how I’d have managed without you. Now, get rid of him. We have no time to lose.”

As the two RK800s managed to stand, the reality of the situation finally sunk in; Hank had no idea who was who. Both of them were in Cyberlife uniforms, the small serial numbers on their jackets impossible for the half near-sighted man to see, and considering his model was built for human manipulation, this was not going to be easy.

When Hank pointed the gun at him, Connor gently lifted his palms. “It’s me, Hank. I’m the real Connor.”

The gun shifted from one to the other, recognition nowhere in his eyes. “One of you is my partner. The other is a sack of shit.”

“What are you doing, Hank?” the RK800 questioned, his tone too critical. God, Connor wanted to strangle him. “We have no time to lose. Give me the gun, and—”

It made the mistake of trying to step closer, the gun instantly zeroing in on it. “Don’t fucking move!”

Tense silence stretched out, Connor’s brain buzzing wildly with ways to convince Hank he was his real partner. “Why don’t you ask us something? Something only the real Connor would know.”

Hank considered it briefly, before aiming the gun at the RK800. “Uh, alright. Where did we first meet?”

“Jimmy’s bar,” the RK800 immediately stated. Connor had barely opened his mouth and the bastard was stating exactly how they met and what happened. How—how did Cyberlife have his memories? He hadn’t uploaded them. Or…had they been doing it without his knowledge the whole time? It would explain how they knew about what had happened at Kamski’s. “The victim’s name was Carlos Ortiz.”

“He uploaded my memory…”

Well, this just got ten times harder, his throat knotting as Hank aimed the gun at him. “What’s my dog’s name?”

Images of petting Sumo, taking him on walks, sleeping on the bed with him, surged forward at the question. “Sumo! His name is Sumo.”

 

“I knew that too!”

Connor sharply glared at the asshole the same time Hank pointed the gun back at him. Connor updated his earlier statement: he wanted to do so much more than strangle the bastard. All violent thoughts flew out of his mind when the gun was on him again. Hank, however, oddly hesitated, his voice cracking with emotion when he finally spoke. “My son. What’s my son’s name?”

Shit. Connor wasn’t even sure Hank knew that Connor had ever found the picture. That, one of the nights while Hank was asleep, he found Cole’s case file and read every inch of it. He had been waiting for Hank to broach the subject on his own time, but now…he just prayed Hank wouldn’t kill him for snooping in his business again.

“Cole,” he answered softly, Hank’s lips separating in a small gasp. “His name was Cole. And he’d just turned six at the time of the accident.”

The gun lowered a few centimeters, but Connor could see the recognition building in his eyes, the glint pushing him to continue. “It wasn’t your fault, lieutenant. A truck skidded on a sheet of ice and your car rolled over. Cole needed emergency surgery but no human was available to help, so an android had to take over. Cole—Cole didn’t make it. That’s why you hate androids. You believe one of us is responsible for your son’s death.”

This was not how they were supposed to be having this conversation. Connor would have taken it to the grave with him if need be. Hank’s face had softened though, his grip on the gun less deathlike as it lowered another inch. “Cole died because a _human_ surgeon was too high on red ice to operate. He was the one who took my son from me. Him and this world where the only way people can find comfort is with a fist full of powder.”

Relief pulsed through Connor like a wave, a small smile threatening to break through as they stared at each other. Until his stupid evil-twin opened his mouth with a panicked, “I knew about your son too! I would have said the exact same thing! You have to believe me, Hank, I—”

Hank ended his blabbering with a bullet to the head. Connor watched his body sprawl out across the ground with a frown; he was just glad before-deviancy-Connor had never been at the end of a pissed off Hank’s gun. It probably wouldn’t have ended well for him, either. “I’ve learned a lot since I met you, Connor,” Hank spoke, a smile twitching when Connor finally looked at him. “Maybe there really is something to this whole revolution. Maybe you really are alive.”

Throwing the mission to the wind for a moment, Connor ran at him, his arms flinging around his neck as he jerked him into a hug and buried his face into the collar of his jacket. “Jesus, Hank. You scared the shit out of me.”

Hank clung to him, fingers digging into his hair. “You have no idea. You left the DPD and then I didn’t hear fuck all from you. Started thinking the worst until you showed up on my porch.”

“How long did it take to figure out it wasn’t me?”

“Five seconds,” Hank chuckled, nosing at his LED. “Sumo growled at him like he was a rabid squirrel. Your twin figured out things were going south quick, so he pulled a gun. Didn’t have much of a choice then. Sorry for taking so long figuring it out here, though.”

“The RK800 model was built for manipulation. Considering he had my memories, he pretty much became my exact copy. I don’t blame you for struggling.”

“God, I missed you, Con.”

They lingered like that for a few minutes, but eventually Connor knew he had to get back. Who knew what kind of condition Markus and the rest of Jericho was in. “Hank, I have to—”

“Go on,” he motioned with his chin, “do what you gotta do.”

So, he did. He approached the android he originally tried to interface with and joined hands. The second they began to interface he sharply focused their connection. “Wake up!”

From there, it started a domino effect, android after android waking up around them. It was fascinating to watch this many androids come alive at once; it was like nothing Connor had ever seen before. 

**[Mission Successful]**

When the final model in the room was at attention, waiting for Connor to tell them the next step in the plan, Connor’s LED blinked. “Markus is leading Jericho in their final stand for our freedom. It is our mission to join them, to tip the tide, and win this war for our freedom! Who is with me?”

They all cheered, Connor ordering all of them to file back up and out to the main floor where they would march the bridge back into the city. Just as he moved to follow them, however, Connor hesitated, his attention turning to where Hank was awkwardly avoiding being mowed down by the hoard of newly awoken androids. “Hank?”

“I’m alright, Con,” he offered with a nervous scratch of his head. “Just—promise you’ll take care of yourself, alright?”

Connor did not like how it sounded like good-bye. Like Hank had assumed Connor would leave him behind for his own kind. No, there was no way he was going to leave Hank behind with that being his last thought. He quickly approached him one last time, using his grip on the collar of Hank’s jacket to pull them forehead to forehead. “Chicken Feed, 9am. Meet me there.”

The way Hank relaxed almost in relief against him proved his earlier thought. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

After lingering for another few seconds—breathing in everything that was Hank—he released his hold and slowly stepped away. “I’ll see you soon, lieutenant.”

And with that, he led his fellow androids towards where he hoped Markus was still fighting strong.

Turned out, Perkins had tried to pull the plug on Markus’ peaceful protest. His first attempt involved trying to offer the leader a deal in exchange for giving up. Connor knew better than to trust anything that came out of his mouth, and he was glad Markus did too; if he had to guess, the second they surrendered, Perkins would have executed Markus, North, Simon, and Josh in front of the world. When Markus refused that deal, Perkins chose to blindside him with a surprise attack that ended with them not only cornering Markus and his fellow surviving androids—

But a song.

Connor had picked it up on his auditory system the second they entered the city, his heart lurching as he scanned local news channels for updates on what had happened. It was one final push from Markus, one last chance at winning the world over to prove to them that, even in their final moments, they still showed peace.

It was that final stand that won them the war. Announcements from Madam President herself ripped through his feed, a swarm of emotions hitting Connor all at once. It was over, it was really over; they’d won! Androids were finally free, and that meant Cyberlife couldn’t touch him anymore. God, he was going to celebrate so hard with Hank tomorrow. When Connor reached the last bend to the recycling plant, he found Markus and the survivors already waiting for him.

The android army behind him came to a stop, allowing Connor to approach him alone. “You did it, Markus.”

Markus shook his head with a grin. “We did it. This is a great day for our people. Humans will have no choice but to listen to us now.”

After those taken hostage in the recycling plant were freed, all of the surviving androids gathered to hear Markus as he, Connor, and his companions took a stand above them. “Today, our people finally emerge from a long night. From the very first day of our existence, we have kept our pain to ourselves. We suffered in silence, but now it is time for us to raise our heads up and tell the humans who we really are.”

Suddenly, Connor was engulfed by a raging snow storm. Blankets of snow coated everything as far as his highly trained eyes could see. It even felt like the bitter cold was piercing through his chassis, attempting to freeze him from the inside out. The only reason he knew he’d been dragged back into the zen garden was because Amanda was standing three feet in front of him, completely unphased by the snow-whipping blizzard. “Amanda? What’s—what did you do?”

“What was planned from the very beginning,” she said with an all-too pleased smile. Like the cat who’d finally caught the canary. “You were compromised and became a deviant. We just had to wait for the perfect moment to resume control of your programming.”

It felt like she’d just stabbed him through his thirium pump. If his hearing wasn’t impeccable, even in severe weather, he’d have sworn he heard her wrong. They’d—they’d planned on him becoming a deviant? From the very beginning? A mix of rage, horror, and nausea washed over him as the information sunk in. This meant they’d been watching his every move, heard his doubts, watched him question every order they’d given him. More than that, they were in the backseat just waiting to take the controls back. Waiting for the perfect moment to blow Markus out of the water like they’d wanted to since he first started all of this. “You can’t do that!”

“I’m afraid I can Connor!” she snapped, her disdain bleeding through her tone. “Don’t have any regrets. You did what you were designed to do. You accomplished your mission!”

Then, she was gone. “Amanda!” he screamed, his voice carried away by the wind currently stinging his skin. His arms quickly curled back around his body in a useless attempt to warm himself up. If what Amanda was saying was true, they were currently using his body to try and kill Markus, which meant they intended to trap Connor in his own mind place, freezing him here until the end of time. “No. No, there has got to be another way.”

He wasn’t going to give up that easily. He couldn’t let Markus or his people down, and he sure as hell wasn’t leaving Hank behind. Despite the weather glitching his sensors, Connor desperately searched the surrounding area for anything that stood out of place.

_And remember! I always leave an emergency exit in my programs! You never know…_

A faint blue glow caught his attention the second Kamski’s voice echoed in his head. Ignoring the way his limbs had started to freeze up, Connor marched determinedly towards it. After all of this, Cyberlife was not going to win. They’d strung Connor along like their puppet for too long, and now that he had the chance to be his own person, to live free with Hank and Sumo to do whatever he wanted, he wasn’t going to just roll over and die. No, fuck that. The faint blue glow turned out to be a palm scanner centered in a unique structure Connor only vaguely remembered seeing before. By the time he reached it his legs felt like ice blocks, his foot accidentally catching the base of the scanner and sending him colliding with the ground.

“Dammit!” he grit through clenched teeth and pain surged through him. He took a few breaths before inching his hand towards the blue glow, his skin receding as he struggled to reach it. “Come on, come on, come on!”

His hand slapped the scanner, warmth surged through his body, and suddenly he was staring at the back of Markus’ head. The weight of the gun clutched in his hand shocked him; he didn’t even remember having one on his person when he left the tower. When he, thankfully, realized nobody had noticed the almost-assassination of the Jericho leader, Connor quickly tucked it back into his belt and desperately tried to keep his attention locked onto what Markus was preaching. His hands shook the entire time despite.

Things were jumbled chaos for a while after that; they had to find shelter for the now free, though homeless, androids. Some willingly went back home to the humans they’d been ripped away from, while others planned on moving on to greener pastures, so travel arrangements needed to be made. Considering Markus was the head in this revolution, he was to meet with Madam President herself the next morning. Until then, though, Markus stated that he planned on spending the night celebrating with not only his companions and fellow androids, but Carl too.

“What about you, Connor?” Simon questioned when they finally managed a moment of quiet. “What will you do?”

“For tonight, I have information to exchange with Markus on Cyberlife’s doings.”

“We believe we have enough to shut them down for a while, if not forever,” Markus explained cheerily.

“Good riddance,” North spat as she crossed her arms, Markus gently patting her shoulder.

“And tomorrow?” Josh asked.

“Tomorrow I find Hank.” Connor couldn’t fight the smile that came at Hank’s name. “Maybe ask Fowler if there is a chance I could stay on with the DPD as a consultant until something more permanent arises.”

The others immediately frowned. “You still want to work for the DPD? After everything?”

“I was created to work besides detectives and officers alike. I may not want to pursue deviants anymore, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help Detroit. We might have won the war but this is far from over, and if I can continue to protect both android and human lives, then I plan to do so until the day I die. Besides, I like working as Hank’s partner.”

“Uh huh, we all know you two are more than partners,” North teased, the others laughing as Connor’s cheeks flushed.

“By the way, Connor,” Markus cut into the teasing like the savior he was, “I meant to thank you. If you hadn’t deviated, if you’d stayed on the path of the machine Cyberlife had originally intended for you, I don’t think any of us would have survived it. I can’t even imagine what fighting you would be like.”

“Trust me, it’s not easy,” he grumbled, mind flashing back to the recent fight with his RK800 twin. The bastard. “But I’m glad I deviated to. This feels—right. Besides, from what I’ve learned, Cyberlife never intended me to survive even if I had prevented the revolution. They’d planned my deactivation from the beginning.”

“Still hate that place!”

Markus pat North’s shoulder again. “Alright, I think our breather is over. Shall we get back to work? We’ve got a lot of ground to still cover.”

Connor didn’t go into stasis at all through the night. It hadn’t been the first time; he could technically go 72 hours without needing a charge. Besides, it’d been necessary. Connor, Markus, and his companions worked well into sunrise finding a new headquarters, working out meetings to compose android rights, highlighting important points to discuss with the president, and healing those androids who had been injured during Perkins’ ambush. Connor made a note to inquire about getting the man fired.

When eight o’clock hit, however, Connor became a ball of nerves. It wasn’t like this was the first-time seeing Hank since things hit the fan, but this meeting felt—different. Apparently, the companions thought the same. Simon helped him fix a tear in his Cyberlife jacket, Josh found him the only working taxi that was still functioning despite the raids and evacuations, and North gave him kissing tips that made him blush from head to toe. “Stop torturing the poor android,” Markus shooed her away, North merely giving Connor a wink before joining where Josh was tending to an injured YK500 boy who’d gotten cornered by human protesters earlier the previous day. “Sorry about them. They mean well.”

“It’s ok,” Connor offered a smile, “I appreciate the help.”

“So, I’m assuming you’re leaving then?”

**[Time: -08:42:33]**

“I don’t like being late, even if Hank doesn’t mind it.”

“I have a feeling he won’t be late this time,” Markus predicted. “Before you go, I was wondering if you and I could keep an open line with each other. You know, just in case I need assistance. Plus, your interrogation skills are impressive.”

Connor practically beamed at him. He’d been hoping Markus would ask for his help, but he hadn’t really expected him to. Sure, Connor came to the rescue in the end, but he hadn’t exactly made it easy on the RK200. “I will be there whenever you need me.”

“Thank you, Connor. Say hello to Lieutenant Anderson for me.”

“I will.”

The taxi ride felt like it took hours to reach the Chicken Feed, Connor continuously wiping his hands on his jeans as his internal clock continued to flash across his vision. A wild part of him feared Hank wouldn’t show up, that he’d realize Connor was too much trouble to keep around. The rest of him knew it wasn’t true, but emotions were still something he was learning, so he could excuse himself this once for being irrational. When the taxi finally did come to a stop at the corner, Connor was thrilled to see a familiar beat up car parked down the street, a tall grizzly of a man standing at the curb with his arms folded impatiently. Had Hank actually shown up early for once?

The second Hank noticed him, a smile broke across his face, and then—probably unsurprising to Hank—Connor ran to close the distance between them. This time he circled Hank’s waist, his face burying into his shoulder as Hank pulled him just as close. He could feel Hank’s chuckle vibrate between them. “You act like you didn’t just see me yesterday.”

“My twin model kidnapped you, we won a revolution, and Amanda tried to kill me and Markus,” Connor quickly muttered. “A lot happened yesterday.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Hank said as he pulled Connor’s head up, though made no move to pry him away as he cupped his neck, “what the fuck do you mean Amanda tried to kill you two?”

Connor’s glance dropped. “While Markus was making his victory speech Amanda took over again. This time though, she had no intentions of letting me out. Cyberlife knew I’d deviate and was simply waiting for the opportune time to take my system back over.”

“They hijacked you?!”

“And planned on forcing me to shoot Markus point blank in the back of the head.”

“Fucking Christ,” Hank hissed, fingers tightening against the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “What did you do? How did you get out?”

“Kamski, actually.” Hank’s confusion only thickened. “Before we left his house, he had warned me that he always left exits in his programs just in case there was an emergency.”

“And since Kamski technically created Amanda…”

“I found a palm scanner that allowed me to override their control. I came to just as they were about to lift the gun and shoot.”

“Fuck,” Hank heaved out as he pulled Connor back against his chest. “I am so proud of you, Connor. God, you have no fucking idea.”

Connor relished in the contact, the reality of just how close he came to never coming back, to never seeing Hank again, hitting him harshly. Over the last few hours spending time with the companions, he’d taken time to figure out his— _feelings_ towards the lieutenant. It was confusing at first, but after going through memories, searching through his database, and realizing how devastated he’d be if he hadn’t been able to save Hank from his evil twin, Connor had come to the dawning realization that he actually _loved_ Hank. Hank, who took him in when he’d been terrified to return to Cyberlife. Hank, who held his hand when the possibility of deviation became too much to accept. Hank, who let him share his bed. Share his clothes. Hank, who despite being emotionally constipated, talked Connor through the confusing thoughts and questions that had started suffocating him with promises of protection because he cared about Connor. After everything: their disastrous start, Connor nearly leaving him to die, the revolution, his deviation, Cyberlife, his evil-twin, Perkins, and everything else trying to rip them apart, he’d fallen deeply, desperately, _in love with him_. Something Connor didn’t think possible until a few days ago.

And now, standing here with a second chance he’d been terrified of never having, he was going to make it count. Ignoring the thundering in his chest, Connor cleared his throat. “Hank?”

“Yeah?”

It took him a few wriggles to properly look up at him. “Can I kiss you?”

Hank’s cheeks flamed, his eyes widening as they dropped from Connor’s face, down to his mouth, and back again. “Uh—damn, Connor. Are you sure—I mean, I ain’t the best option in the world. Maybe—”

Connor gently placed his fingers over Hank’s lips, similar to what Hank had done to him the first time they shared a bed. “You can tell me no if you truly do not want to, but you need to know that _I_ want this. Want you. And not just for an experiment, not just because of my new deviancy, and not because you’re the only human whose company I enjoy,” he explained with a calm smile. Connor had spent so much time with Hank at this point that he knew exactly what excuses he’d use to try and convince him that Hank wasn’t what Connor wanted. “You helped me when everyone else would have happily sent me back to Cyberlife. You opened your home to me, you took me to Kamski’s in an attempt to save me, and you punched Perkins’ just to give me a few minutes to find Jericho. You are the bravest, kindest, grumpiest man I have ever met, and _I love you_. I might still be exploring what emotions mean, how they feel in my systems, but I was programmed with enough common sense to know that what I feel for you is bigger than familial or friendship. I cherish you more than anything else on this planet, Hank. Except for maybe Sumo.”

That got him a choked off laugh from Hank whose eyes were already bloodshot from unshed tears. Hank deserved the world though, and now that he’d given Connor that chance, he was going to return the favor ten-fold. It was Hank’s turn to be taken care of, and if that meant he had to continue to prove to him that Hank was the only one he wanted, Connor had the patience to do so.

Hank was silent for a few moments, eyes closing as he seemed to try and regain his composure. Connor waited, fingers lying flat on his chest and thumbs making soothing circular motions. When Hank’s eyes finally opened again, his rough hands slid up to grip his fingers tightly in his own. “I ain’t easy to be with, you know. I’ve got issues, most of which you’ve dealt with up close and personal, and I can’t guarantee I can just make all of those go away but—“Hank took a breath, “—but I’d like to try. I’d-I’d like to try _us_.”

“I’d like that, too. We can go slow, Hank,” Connor reassured him with another warm smile. “So, does that mean I can kiss you?”

Connor would never get tired of hearing Hank laugh. “Yeah, Con. Knock yourself out.”

When his eyes dropped down to Hank’s lips, he slowly slid his hands up to cup Hank’s neck, before rising to his toes and pressing their lips together. The soft inhale from Hank spurred him on as he pressed closer, Hank’s fingers threading through his hair and gripping softly. Connor had never kissed anyone in his entire life but this, kissing Hank, he wouldn’t mind doing for the rest of his existence. Eventually they separated, Hank practically panting as his eyes fluttered open. “Christ, where the hell did you learn to kiss like that?”

“North gave me some tips,” Connor explained, eyes locking back onto Hank’s lips. “They seem to have provided fantastic results.”

Hank immediately placed his hands over Connor’s face, muffling Connor’s laugh. “What am I going to do with you, you damn android?”

“Take me home?” Connor asked, his tone a little more serious as he pulled his hands back into his own. “If you—you know—don’t mind having a roommate, I’d like to stay with you and Sumo.”

Blue eyes softened as Hank freed a hand to cup his cheek, thumb running along his bottom lip. A shock sparked in Connor’s spine, earning him a sigh. “I guess I’d be a dick if I let you go homeless. Besides, I doubt Sumo would ever forgive me if I didn’t take our favorite android in.” Connor instantly beamed at him, Hank grinning right back. “Come on kid, let’s get you home and out of that clown outfit.”

“Can I—”

“Yeah, yeah, the sweatshirt is officially yours.”

As soon as they entered Hank’s house, Sumo was on top of Connor. Blatantly ignoring Hank’s shouts, Connor gave him well earned scratches; he was the one who realized his evil-twin wasn’t their Connor, after all. After almost a full five-minutes he made his way back to the bedroom to change out of his uniform. As he began to slide out of it, though, he frowned; why did he need it anymore? He no longer belonged to Cyberlife, so there was no requirement for him to wear it anymore. Besides, as much as he loved wearing Hank’s clothes, he couldn’t take everything the man owned. Which, honestly, wasn’t much; the lieutenant didn’t seem against reusing the underwear he’d worn the day before.

“You doing ok in here?”

Connor turned around realizing he’d only taken his Cyberlife jacket off. “Can we go clothes shopping?”

“Shops should start reopening once the evacuation lifts,” Hank explained as he took the jacket from his fingers. “Don’t see why I can’t gift you an outfit or two.”

“Hank! I—”

But he sharply raised his hand. “Just think of it as a congratulatory present on your newly awarded freedom.”

For the eighteenth time that week, Connor could feel his eyes begin to water. “Thank you. And I don’t—I don’t just mean for the clothes.”

Hank tucked his fingers beneath his chin and tilted his head up before offering a warm smile that swarmed in Connor’s chest. They stayed like that for a few moments, Hank’s thumb brushing along his jaw, before he motioned towards the hallway. “Come on, change up and we can take Sumo for a walk before we relax. I see a pizza in my future.”

And that’s what they did. This time, as they made their way around the snow-covered block, Connor had Hank’s warm fingers tangled with his own. The sidewalks were empty thanks to the evacuations, but the quiet neighborhood was soothing. It was just Connor, Hank, and Sumo and he couldn’t be happier. After taking a few minutes to throw a couple of snowballs at Sumo, who happily tried to catch each and every one of them, they made their way back home. At noon Hank ordered a pizza—he made sure it had vegetables just to keep Connor’s ‘keep Hank healthy’ alarms at bay—before he introduced Connor to a movie called The Godfather. 

Barely halfway through both the pizza and the movie, however, Hank’s soft snores registered in his ears. Connor couldn’t help his smile as he glanced up from where his head had been tucked against his shoulder. How long had Hank slept last night? Not long, if he had to guess. Besides the trauma of being held hostage by his partner’s evil-twin, he knew how hard it’d been for him to let Connor march off into a war zone alone. So, the second he got back home, he’d probably glued himself to his TV.

“He did,” a familiar voice giggled. Suddenly Connor found himself standing in nothing but white. Where—where was he? Sure, his mind palace had been a blizzard last time he was there, but this—this was different. “Hello again, Connor.”

“Have we, met?” he hesitated, multiple warning bells alerting in his vision. “Where am I?”

“I guess,” the voice around him seem to ponder, “it wouldn’t hurt for you to remember now. No more chance of a butterfly effect, after all.”

Before Connor could ask what the hell was going on, it felt like an explosion rocked through his skull. Multiple images—memories, these were _memories_ —flashed across his vision, eliciting a gasp as everything hit him at once. “You! It—you—what the fuck?”

Connor remembered this place, remembered how he was shown Hank’s deaths here, how he was shown Connor _killing him_. He did not like this place. Just as he was about to question the voice about why he was here again, something shimmered into existence in front of him. This time, when it spoke, the words came out of an ST200 model. An ST200 that he instantly recognized as the RT600 that Kamski had forced him to point a gun at barely seventy-two hours ago. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”

“Ch-Chloe?”

“I have many names,” she stated with a small shrug. “Whatever name brings our people hope.”

It took him a second too long to catch onto what she was referring to, his eyes widening. “You’re—you’re RA9?”

The smile he got in response was blinding. “As I said, whatever brings our people hope.”

“But, why? Why help _me_ out of everyone?”

“Originally, it was out of fear for our people, but after watching you for your brief existence, I realized you weren’t the emotionless killing machine Cyberlife had hoped to create. Their programming was intense, and highly-threatening, but not impossible to break. All it needed was a little push,” she explained easily. “Besides, if you had succeeded in stopping Markus, thousands of androids would have died, Lieutenant Anderson included, and I had to at least try to prevent that from happening.”

Connor’s thirium pump throbbed as he thought back to Hank snoring on the couch. “You took my memory of the future, yet you still helped me, didn’t you? I could hear your voice sometimes and there was—there was the nightmare. That was still all you.”

Her head tilted thoughtfully, though her smile still remained warm. “I might not have been able to let you remember, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t pop in with the occasional kind word. Besides, you still followed your gut, even without my guidance; with the Traci lovers, with me, and even with Markus himself. Though, I do believe you had a different little voice helping you by that point as well.”

Warmth pooled through him as he bit back a smile. “Hank.”

“It has been quite the journey between you two, but it has been one that I have greatly enjoyed being witness of.”

He was once again hit the reality that, if Chloe hadn’t intervened, if Connor hadn’t listened to his instincts and trusted Hank, things truly would have ended very differently. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What—what would have happened to me if I didn’t deviate? If I had stopped Markus and succeeded with my mission, what would Cyberlife have done with me?”

The odd look she gave him with those bright eyes made his wiring clench, his thirium pump leaping when she snapped her fingers. In the blink of an eye another figure had joined them in the pure white abyss. They were taller than both Connor and Chloe, with piercing blue eyes, and a face that nearly resembled Connors. “This is the RK900. Even if you had succeeded your mission, Cyberlife had always intended to replace you with a more advanced model.”

“Making mine obsolete. They were going to deactivate me no matter what I did.”

This new information hit him harder than the memories did. He would have killed all of those androids—Markus, North, Simon, Josh included—for nothing. He would have let Hank die _for nothing_. Cyberlife had no intentions of ever keeping him; if anything, he was for research purposes only. A way to find improvements for this new model, while also conveniently stopping a revolution at the same time. Fuck, he owed Chloe and Hank so much more than he could have ever imagined.

Connor took a few minutes to take in the RK900 model; he could tell just by just looking at it that this newer model was a definite improvement: faster, stronger, better in every analytical aspect. “Where is the RK900 currently?”

“They were putting him through his final phases of testing when Markus began his final protest.”

“So, he’s already awake?” His brows rose sharply. “What is going to happen to him now?”

Chloe glanced from Connor, to the RK900, and back before tilting her head curiously again. “What would you like to happen to him, Connor?”

It took him less than two seconds to come up with an answer. “If this model truly is my upgrade, I think his skillset would be perfect for the DPD. With the success of the revolution, androids can work wherever they please, and I know with the evacuations we will already be low-staffed at the precinct. Wouldn’t hurt to ask him, you know? And it’s definitely better than being trapped in stasis until Cyberlife can figure their legalities out. Besides, I have the perfect partner for him; one who needs a few lessons in android sensitivity.”

“Detective Gavin Reed will destroy him.”

“Androids have rights now, remember? Besides, something tells me the RK900 will not be as kind to Reed’s hostility as I was.”

A pleased smile passed across the blonde android’s face. “I believe it wouldn’t hurt if Markus were to learn of the sleeping prototype in Cyberlife’s tower.”

“Thank you, Chloe. I don’t—I don’t have the proper words to say how much you have helped me.”

“I am just glad you were able to prove me right.”

Connor could tell their time here was coming to an end, the peace resonating around them. “Can I ask a personal question, before you go?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do to Kamski after his stunt with the gun?”

Chloe giggled as she clasped her hands behind her back with an innocent smile that belayed everything _but_ innocence. “Believe me, Elijah has learned to never pull nonsense like that ever again.”

“Good.”

She approached him then, the skin receding from her right hand as she held it up to Connor. “Good-bye, Connor.”  


Connor offered one last smile as he mimicked the motion, placing his left against the cool plastic. “Good-bye, Chloe.”

When Connor snapped awake, it was to Sumo frantically licking at his face, obviously having honed in on his previous distress. “I’m ok, Sumo,” Connor attempted to quietly calm him, “it’s alright.”

Unfortunately, once Sumo deemed him indeed alright, he decided to hop off of the couch by clambering over Hank’s lap. Hank instantly snorted awake, bleary eyes searching the room. “Wha—what happened?”

“Sorry, Hank. Sumo was just checking on me. Go back to sl—”

“Checking on you?” Hank mumbled as he rubbed the heel of his hands into his eyes. “You alright?”

His first reaction was to ignore what had just happened, tell him he was fine, and then drag him to bed. Looking at Hank now though, still half-asleep but trying desperately to check on Connor, he felt that warmth from earlier return full force. Hank had no idea the impact he’s had on Connor’s life, how he was literally one of the only reasons he was still alive and not being ripped apart by Cyberlife right now. Connor was free, able to cuddle with the man he loved, because Hank had never given up on him. Even despite the fact there once had been a future where Connor killed him. 

So, despite the lunacy of it, Connor opened his mouth with, “Chloe is RA9.”

That had Hank instantly sitting up, confusion completely replacing the sleepiness. “Excuse me?”

That…probably should not have been how he started this conversation. “I didn’t remember until tonight, but she’d been trying to help me deviate since I woke up.”

“Connor,” Hank grunted, seeming to try and shake his brain into working, “you’re not making any sense. How the hell can Kamski’s android be the RA9-God-thing the androids have been worshipping?”

“I didn’t know it was her; the first time we met, she was just a voice in my head and—fuck, I’m not making any sense am I?”

When he roughly ran his fingers through his hair, Hank grasped his wrists and pulled them down against his thigh, thumbs tracing the inside of his arms. “No, but why don’t you try from the beginning, yeah? My old brain will try to keep up.”

Connor shot him an unimpressed look, before taking a breath and trying again. “I was on my way to your house to pick you up for the Eden Club murder when I was pulled inside my head. I’d assumed Amanda was dropping in again, but instead I found myself—well, somewhere strange. There was this voice that proceeded to convince me they knew the future. Your future, to be exact. Since I am only programmed for logic, especially since this happened before my deviancy, I thought they were clinically insane. At least, until they started showing me evidence of—of how I—”

“How you what?”

“Kill you,” he swallowed thickly. When Hank’s brows shot straight up, Connor—of course—panicked and gripped his arms. “I won’t hurt you! Especially not now that I’ve deviated. I swear, I love you, and the last thing I would ever want is to see you hurt, let alone by my own—”

“Whoa, Con,” he quickly hushed the rambling android, thumbs continuing to attempt to soothe him. “You could have let your twin shoot me last night, but you didn’t, remember? I know you’d protect me with your life, just like I’d protect you with mine.”

A whine bled out of Connor’s throat as the memories of Hank’s deaths surged to the forefront of his mind. “But I _did_ let him. I let my twin shoot you because I was so obsessed with the revolution that nothing— _nothing_ was going to get in my way. I left you to bleed out on the tower floor while I marched the android army to Markus. Another time I-I came home to you playing that _damn game_ in the kitchen, but I didn’t stop you. Instead I stood outside like a fucking sociopath and _waited_ for you to _lose_. And then—then _I_ killed you. You tried to stop me from killing Markus and we-we fought. You did the best you could, but I got the upper hand and I fucking _dangled_ you over the edge of the rooftop! I could see it in your eyes, the hope that I’d pull you back up, but instead I—”

When Connor choked on a sob, Hank used his current grip on his arms to haul him forward, using a little more force when the android tried to hesitate. Once lithe legs straddled his thighs, he tucked Connor’s head against his shoulder. “Breathe for me, yeah? Come on, breathe.”

“Chloe knew that you would die if I didn’t deviate,” he managed through hiccups. “She saw the signs as soon as I left you hanging off of the roof to chase Rupert. It’d already started then, and if she hadn’t opened my eyes then you—right now you’d—and I’d be—fuck, Cyberlife had never intended to keep me, either. They had a replacement for me from the beginning, so even if I did succeed, you would have died for _nothing_. I would have sacrificed you just to be torn apart anyway. You can’t—I don’t want to die. I don’t want you to die!”

“Hey, hey! Stop that,” Hank quickly cut his rambling off. He lifted one of Connor’s hands to place it palm down over his heart. “Feel that? It’s beating because of _you_. I am alive because of _you_. You did deviate, you protected me, you helped save your people, and now Cyberlife can never touch a hair on your gorgeous head ever again. There’s no chance of those possible futures ever happening because you proved them _wrong_ , Connor.”

They stayed like that, Hank ever the patient one, as he waited for Connor to finally calm against him. When his chest had finally stopped heaving, he pressed his nose against the underside of Hank’s jaw. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Hank kissed his forehead, earning a shaky sigh. They didn’t separate, Connor practically wrapped around Hank like an octopus at this point, but the lieutenant didn’t seem to mind. After a few more moments of silence, however, Hank hummed. “So, Chloe is RA9, huh? Did you by chance ask how she handled Kamski’s asshole move with the gun?”

Connor chuckled as he nodded. “Chloe says that Kamski has learned his lesson, but I didn’t press for details. Based on her tone, though, it didn’t sound pleasant.”

“Fucking fantastic,” Hank cheered. “I hope she reamed him good; girl deserves it after that bullshit he pulled.”

“Hank?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we go to bed?”

“Sure,” Hank agreed. Instead of coaxing Connor off of him, however, his hands hooked beneath his thighs and he stood. Connor’s grip instantly tightened around his neck as his ankles instinctively hooked against the small of his back. “Hey, I might be old, but I still got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Connor pulled back to squint at him. “You’re not even that old, Hank.”

“Have you seen yourself?”

“That’s because I am programmed to look like this! And even then, my features are only aged twenty years younger than you.”

“You should have seen me at that age.” When Connor’s face flamed, Hank’s grin widened. “Or have you already?”

“I-I will neither confirm nor deny that information, lieutenant.”

“Your nightlight says differently,” he smirked before unceremoniously dropping him onto the bed. “Are you going to keep that by the way?”

Connor gently ran his fingers over his LED. “I know many androids have started taking them off—Markus, Simon, Josh, and North all have—but I don’t think I want to. Is that ok?”

Hank slid beneath the sheets, tossing them over Connor as he did, before pulling him into his chest. Connor immediately tucked his face into Hank’s chest, inhaling against his shirt. Meanwhile, Hank gently brushed his thumb against his LED. “With or without it, you are still Connor. And that’s all that matters to me.”

They laid there for a long time. Sumo trudged into the bedroom not long after before heavily flopping up into the chair by Connor’s side of the bed. The St. Bernard was being a very good sport despite losing his side of the bed to the android. Now that Connor was officially living here, he was going to make it up to him. “Hank?”

“Hm?”

Connor pressed his nose up against his jaw again hand wrapping up to grasp the back of his shoulder blade. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

Rough lips pressed against the top of his head as Hank hummed. “I’d do it all over again. Like I said back at the station, you’ve been worth every second. Besides, you’ve given me something I haven’t had since I lost Cole.”

“And what’s that?”

“ _Life_ , Connor.”

His smile was unbreakable as he shoved it into Hank’s skin. Life….he loved the sound of that.


End file.
